Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping Than you can understand. -William Butler Yeats Vampires stalk the night, hungry for blood. Werewolves lose their morality and turn into beasts. Zombies have an insatiable need for living flesh. Still, no creature of lore terrifies me quite like the Fair Folk and their secret world nestled right beside our own. My fear of the Fair Folk went from "Best mind that which I don't understand," to "These creatures stalk my nightmares" courtesy of two works of young adult fiction. The idea of a creature who cannot lie, but is so beguiling and clever that they can trick humankind into becoming toys, servants, entertainment, and even delicacies with twisted riddles and a knack for double-speech—who wouldn’t be afraid? It’s no wonder that people still respect the Fae with due caution to this day. The first of the two books is THE CALL by Peadar O’Guilin. I listened to the audiobook read by the phenomenal Amy Shiels. The creeping tension made by the looming threat of the Sidhe as depicted by O’Guilin, combined with Shiels’ narrative skills, wove a story that had me itching for any moment I had to listen.
Following Nessa’s journey as she watches each of her classmates be Called, coming back as disfigured, mangled, corpses is enrapturing. Beyond that, I was captivated by the brutal ways of the Sidhe that O’Guilin depicted. Merciless, bloodthirsty, and dreadfully creative with how they toy with each mortal Called to their world, the Sidhe are perfect monsters driven by a furious need for revenge. The Faeries in Holly Black’s THE CRUEL PRINCE are an entirely different manner of monsters, but they follow the same rules that the legends dictate. Where THE CALL has a distinct ‘horror’ vibe to it, THE CRUEL PRINCE focuses more on the danger of courtly intrigue in the vein of GAME OF THRONES.
Unlike THE CALL, THE CRUEL PRINCE takes place primarily in Faerie and focuses more on intrigue and courtly politics. There is also a primarily faerie cast of characters that drew my affection quickly, but not because they were kind. As the title suggests, the faeries that Jude must navigate as a mortal in an immortal world are cruel and malicious. Some prefer outright violence. Still others prefer to toy with mortal emotions. There is one thing that unites all of the faeries in THE CRUEL PRINCE: cross them, and they will not hesitate to inflict punishment. Both THE CALL and THE CRUEL PRINCE were captivating reads, and I look forward to reading both sequels: THE INVASION and THE WICKED KING respectively. I’ve always regarded the Fae as mysterious and dangerous, but thanks to Peadar O’Guilin and Holly Black, I’ll be thinking twice before I make any promises to strangers offering to grant wishes. Title quote by William Butler Yeats.
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Do you need new books to read? Is your TBR over-flowing, but you're still looking to add more? Is there a book you want, but money is tight so you can't afford it?
I CAN HELP WITH THAT!!
To celebrate reaching (and surpassing!!) 350 followers on my Facebook page, I'm doing a giveaway! One lucky winner will receive a book of their choice off of a list of a huge variety of LGBTQ+ YA books, and entering is easy. What kind of extensive list of LGBTQ+ books, you ask? Click the button below to take a look!
For those of you who don't want to click the button, the list is an organized collection of LGBTQ+ YA literature broken down by identity. Not only that, but the list breaks down how the representation is shown, as well as if it was written by and/or features a character of color. Yeah. It's a good list. So how do you enter? Good old Rafflecopter is here to help! Below is an interactive window with a variety of ways to enter to win. The more you do, the more chances you have at getting your hands on your very own new book! One thing I ask--if you win, please take the time to review the book of your choice after you read it on Amazon/Goodreads/etc. It may seem like nothing, but rating and reviewing on sites like that help show that there is a demand for this kind of content, and makes it easier for creators to get a foot in the door. Thank you! The contest will run from 12AM EST on 4/21/18 to 12AM EST on 4/28/18. If you have any issue with rafflecopter, please comment below so I can get it fixed ASAP! Without further ado...ENTER ENTER ENTER!
Where to begin? The beginning, I suppose, but my heart is so full that it's difficult to organize my thoughts. What else is new?
A few weeks back I was given an opportunity by a longtime friend, Maria, to speak at an LGBTQ+ youth organization called Pride for Youth (PFY). PFY is a branch off of the Long Island Crisis Center (LICC). LICC opened PFY in 1992 when a large percentage of their calls were from LGBTQ+ community in need of help and services. Today PFY is going strong and servicing countless members of the LGBTQ+ community. Of the several groups and services that PFY offers, the most populated one is centered around kids between the ages of thirteen to twenty called Coffeehouse. Last night I made a presentation in front of around eighty of the clients that attend Coffeehouse, and I'd like to unpack this whirlwind of a night.
Having social anxiety and preparing to make a presentation in front of a group of people mixes about as well as oil and water. The two weeks leading up to last night were a whirlwind of talking to myself in the car, planning the direction I was going to take, and imagining every possible worst-case-scenario. What if the kids are bored? What if no one raises their hand when I ask a question? What if my nerves hit the kind of peak that I get sick right there on the floor. I'm happy to report that every single one of those 'what if' scenarios failed to occur.
My presentation began with a quick overview of how I started writing. I reflected on the first book I ever wrote, and how it fueled my passion for writing. I talked about the seven years it took me to write my next book and the endless lessons I learned from it. I finished expressing how proud of myself I was for completing my third book, and all of the heart I put into it. Quick side note--if I've learned anything from Maria, it's that it's important to vocalize things you're proud of yourself for doing. It's hard to do in practice, but the feeling it releases is powerful and important.
Try it right now. I'll wait. I moved on to discuss that I might have discovered my identity much earlier in life if I had access to more LGBTQ+ literature in my school and the library. From there, I delved into the importance of fanfiction--and you can bet there will be a blog post solely about that in the future, so get ready--and how that translates into a need for more representation in young adult literature where it can reach kids who are trying to discover their own identities. Minority groups need to see themselves reflected in the media they consume, and as I've said many times, I am determined to do whatever I can to help with that.
And that's what lead to the point of this entire presentation. I want to give LGBTQ+ and otherwise marginalized people representation in the stories I write, but the world is entirely different and they have access to more than I could have ever dreamed of. This is evidenced in the fact that there were eighty kids between the ages of thirteen and twenty sitting in a room who had begun a journey of self-exploration that I didn't dip a toe into until I was in college. I say this as a twenty-five year old. This goes even more for writers who are older than me.
So if us YA authors are writing for these kids, why don't we listen more to what they have to say? I posed that exact question at Coffeehouse last night. "What identities do you want to see?" I asked. "What kinds of stories would inspire you to grab a book of the shelf in a heartbeat?" I was humbled by the number and variety of responses.
Originally, I was going to fill this post with the ideas I was given, but I've since changed my mind, because I think to give only one blog post to this would be a disservice to what these kids were calling out for. So, I've decided going forward I will write blog posts on here using the tag #LearnFromThem devoted to exploring the potential behind their ideas. These ideas are free to use and draw inspiration from because I don't want to horde what I learned last night. I don't care who puts these stories out in the world so long as these stories get out there and into the hands of the kids they're written for.
What came after my presentation was what touched me the most. I told the kids that I was going to be around after the presentation if they had any questions, and that I had business cards readily available with my contact information if they ever wanted to talk about anything in the world. I spent the next several hours having different kids come up to me to talk about their passions or their ideas. They were talking over each other and building on each other's ideas, and I saw into this beautiful well of creativity that is going untapped.
It wasn't just ideas, though, but gratitude. My heart is full as I type this. The number of kids who thanked me for listening to their ideas, and for making an effort to tell their stories, leaves me humbled. There are so many writers out there who are already doing what these kids are asking for, and they deserve recognition. Those words of gratitude go out to them as well. I have always said that I write for myself, of course, but I write even more for those that might see themselves in the stories I put on the page. I got a glimpse into what a future as a published author could be like for me. I saw the kind of impact my words, and the words of the writing community, have on the kids who need us most. It makes every single rejection and doubt that comes with being an author worth it.
If any of you who watched my presentation last night are reading this, please know that you inspire me. You give me the courage to put my work out there. You give me the drive to never stop writing. You are all powerful, and brave, and amazing, and whether we spoke or not, this experience will live in my heart forever.
Going forward, I will be using the tag #LearnFromThem to talk about the ideas these amazing kids came up with. If you have something you want to share, or you want to join in this little movement, please use the tag and help spread the word.
These kids are who we write for, so let's raise their voices. Writing LGBTQ+ characters isn’t new for me. For those of you who followed my process of writing and revising DUODECIM, you know that story is chock-full of minority characters who deserve the spotlight. I live for writing diverse characters whose stories are not about their experience as a minority. I wanted to write a fantasy story about diverse characters being badass and powerful, and that’s what I did. THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN is a different animal entirely. While in DUODECIM, different characters featured aspects of my identity, it didn’t qualify as #ownvoices because my protagonist didn’t encompass my identity in its entirety. For THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN, I wanted to take that step and try my hand at something different, and boy, was that an experience. My gender has always been something difficult to articulate. I didn’t start exploring the subject until I was in college, and discussing it outside of friend groups took even longer. Even with the different names for identities and their descriptions, it was still difficult to explain how I felt in words. Non-binary is different for everyone who falls under that heading, so narrowing it down to my truth took time and a lot of personal exploration. Needless to say, committing to write a book about someone who identified the way I do when I didn’t know how to describe it myself was tricky in concept. What surprised me was how easily it came to me in practice. While THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN isn’t in itself a coming out story, it deals with Lex’s anxieties over telling their friends and family, and that lends to the overarching conflict in the story. LGBTQ+ people don’t come out just once—it’s a daily process that comes in different forms. To leave that out of Lex’s story, and subsequently my own, would be a disservice to portraying this kind of an #ownvoices story. Lex’s identity is by no means a catch-all for how non-binary people identify. Identity, presentation, and orientation are all different and valid. Exploring how I define my gender and myself through Lex was one of the most rewarding experiences to come out of writing this book. I’ve always known that #ownvoices stories are incredibly important in terms of how they affect those reading them. What I never expected was all that I would learn from writing #ownvoices. Even if it’s never shared, I encourage everyone to write their truths, whatever that truth is—you never know what you’ll unearth about yourself in the process.
Want to read the first page (and a half) of my new WIP, THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN? Click the 'read more' button to check it out!
You can also find the snippet on my Facebook page, along with other updates and information about this project's progress. So what are you waiting for? Click below, give it a read, and share your thoughts in the comments! Writing your own truth can be hard, but boy is it worth it. THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN was an exploration of my own identity in more ways than one, but for right now, I’m going to focus solely on writing what mental illnesses look like for me. I knew it would be an experience, but I didn’t quite realize how therapeutic it could be. For those unfamiliar with the THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN, main character Lex is a non-binary seventeen year old who struggles with three demons who seek to torment Lex’s day to day life for their own amusement. Each of these three demons represents a facet of their mental illnesses that they struggle against: anxiety, depression, and dysphoria. While Lex and I experience depression and dysphoria at different levels, I poured as much of my experience with anxiety into the story as I could. It was important to me to tell my truth as far as what anxiety feels like to me. Before I go on, please know that anxiety manifests differently for everyone. My experience with anxiety, as well as Lex’s experience with anxiety, is by no means everyone’s reality. Part of my intention in this story was to show readers who don’t have anxiety, depression, or dysphoria what it can look like. I also hope that reading this can help give a language to those who are suffering, but don’t know the words to refer to them by. The demon that represents anxiety for Lex is Brenda, a cockroach-esque monstrosity that lives on their back. Brenda whispers in Lex’s ear, painting images of worst-case-scenarios. To induce the physical symptoms of anxiety, Brenda has sharp pincers and barbed legs that she uses to spark pain wherever she sees fit. Brenda, along with the other demons, are invisible to everyone else, just as anxiety can be invisible to anyone outside of the sufferer. Giving my anxiety a voice through Brenda was a unique experience. It became an exercise in recognizing what are reasonable worries, and what worries are unrealistic and inspired by my anxiety. During THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN, Lex is in the throes of anxiety at its peak, driven by life-changing moments and confessions that would be stressful for anyone. While I’ve learned to manage my anxiety, I was where Lex is not too long ago. This story felt like a letter to a younger me who was still figuring everything out; it was a promise that things would sort themselves out, even when all seemed overwhelmingly hopeless. To anyone who suffers from disorders like anxiety, depression, and dysphoria, I encourage you to try and write about it. You don’t need to share it with anyone. It doesn’t need to be good, or publishable. Whether you’re in the early stages, right in the heart of it, or coming out of the other side with a treatment plan, write your reality. Explore it. Don’t be afraid of it. It’s an incredible kind of therapy. If you or someone you love is struggling with mental illness, asking for help is the first step. Please see below for a list of resources to reach out to. Mental illness isn't something to be romanticized. It's a serious issue surrounded with tremendous stigma. You don't have to wait until you're in crisis to reach out--no problem is too big or too small. It's time to push conversations and raise the voices of those who struggle from these 'invisible' illnesses so that everyone can get the help they need and deserve. The Trevor Project The Trevor Project is the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexua, transgender, and questioning (LGBTQ) young people ages 13-24. 24/7 Hotline: 1-866-488-7386 Website: thetrevorproject.org National Suicide Prevention Lifeline The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is a national network of local crisis centers that provides free and confidential emotional support to people in suicidal crisis or emotional distress 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. 24/7 Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 Website: suicidepreventionlifeline.org Crisis Text Line Crisis Text Line is free, 24/7 support for thsoe in crisis. Text 741741 from anywhere in the US to text with a trained Crisis Counselor. Crisis Text Line trains volunteers to support people in crisis. Website: crisistextline.org If you know of any other great resources, or want to talk about your own experiences with mental illness, leave a comment below! There’s going to be a few posts about this highlighting my experiences writing this new manuscript, and it was hard to decide which one I should focus on for my first entry. As I clicked the ‘title’ box, my fingers answered the question for me. DUODECIM is currently out on submission. I’m fortunate enough to have multiple agents reading my full manuscript, and if any of you are reading this, I’m waiting patiently, (and eagerly), and have trained myself to only refresh my email a few times a day. DUODECIM wasn’t an easy project, but not because I didn’t love the story. It was my first real work. I didn’t have a community of writers encouraging me and teaching me. I was in the throes of navigating a whole new world and I was discovering the tools to do it myself. It wasn’t until the last year of drafting that I joined the twitter writing community and made friends who opened up a world of opportunity to me. The revising of DUODECIM was harder than drafting, but the process went quicker. I went through so many drafts and I didn’t have a strategy. I changed a plot point in the beginning, started to implement it throughout, and then I would come to the end and realize there was an even better way of doing it. It took a big wake-up call from my friend Kat—who all of you should follow because she’s going to be huge one day, just you wait—who broke down all of the problems in my draft with the kind of honesty that hurts the same way antiseptic burns in a fresh cut. I learned what many of my bad writing habits were. I learned how to fix them. She poured my inbox with articles about craft, and was always there to hear me out when I needed to talk through a tricky plot problem. It took seven years to get DUODECIM to where it is, but I learned so much. This blog post isn’t about DUODECIM. Words cannot express how grateful I am for every one of those seven years, and every struggle I pushed through. In reflection, they changed who I am as a writer. That book is my love and my child, and without it, I couldn’t have learned my craft well enough to have written THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN. I went in with new tools, and a new understanding of drafting. I caught myself making the mistakes it took me ages to undo before I made them. I went in with an outline that kept me on track while still allowing me to let my characters tell their story. I changed up my tense and point of view to challenge myself, and found a new side to my writing style I didn’t know existed. THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN was an exercise in confidence and affirmation. Every time I put words on the page and they came easier than I ever imagined, I felt driven to push more out. With each finished chapter, seeing the story grow, I was inspired to dive into the next one. It was a vicious cycle, sans actually being vicious. I think writers don’t always take the time to celebrate these little landmarks. After all, writing is an art, and art is never really finished. It’s in our nature to criticize ourselves, and point out places where we could have done more. This post is an active step against that bad habit. I wrote my first draft of THE PUNCTUATION BETWEEN in three months. Yes, I still have revising to do, and it won’t be ready for querying tomorrow, but it still feels like a landmark to me. I pushed myself to do something that I never thought I would be able to, and finishing this draft feels like a victory. Of course, this story was landmark for me in a few ways, and there will be other posts for that in the coming days, but for now I simply want to say that I’m overwhelmingly proud of myself. Reader, for wherever you are in your writing lives, or even your every day lives, take a moment to be proud of yourself. Whether it be for putting words on a page, going to work, making an important call. Be proud of yourself, because it makes a world of difference. Now onto the next adventure: revising. Hello family, friends, and followers! With the end of the year neigh upon us, it's time to set some New Year’s resolutions for reading and writing in 2018. My goals are as follows:
Some of these are lofty, but if I can even come close to completing half of these, it will be an incredibly successful year. That said, I also had a lot of accomplishments this year. I re-wrote my first book and had a whopping 10 full agent requests on it which is more than I had ever dreamed of. 7 of those full requests are still open and pending, so maybe I’ll be lucky enough to knock off one of those resolutions early. I went to my first writing conference, my first in-person-pitch, and learned a tremendous amount about the craft. I won my first ARC, participated in #Pitchwars #PitMad, #DVPit, and #SFFPit. I met some really incredible friends on twitter who have been both a tremendous support and incredible teachers of the craft. And finally, I won my very first #Nanowrimo! 57,000 words in the month of November on a new book was a huge achievement for me and I couldn’t be more proud of myself. 2017 was a year of ups and downs, but the good far outweighs the bad. Here’s to making 2018 even better and pushing myself harder to reach my dreams of seeing my name share a shelf with all of the authors I admire so much. Happy New Year, everyone! See you on the other side!
I wanted to do a writing practice based on this prompt: I’ve been putting so much into revising, it felt good to rewire my brain for this. It’s not quite focused ALL on one sense, but I tried to center it around hearing/sound as much as I could. I also am trying to test out a new voice to see how it flows. The sounds of my little demons chittering to themselves in the blackness of my room at night are directly correlated with the bruised shadows under my eyes every day. I’m pretty sure the people at school just think it’s part of my ~aesthetic~ which is fine by me. Better than them thinking I’m flat out crazy, cause school is enough of a pain in the ass. But then, who’s gonna come up with the theory that Lex always looks like she was up all night because she was trying to shut out the demons who thrive on the darkness outside? ‘She.’ I did it again. I know I’m not ‘she,’ but they don’t, so my voices for them call me ‘she,’ and even though I can’t hear her, I know Helen’s slithering around my mirror thriving on the dysphoria. God, she’s such a bitch. I’ll look in the mirror tomorrow, and she’ll make sure to highlight all of the things that help the world see me as a girl. Because there’s nothing like having your reflection used against you as a weapon, showing you what the world will always see. Brenda hisses out a stuttered wheeze before her barbed feet dig deeper into my back. I hate that I know she’s laughing at me, even though I’m fairly certain demons don’t understand the concept. Or at least, if they do, they all failed stupendously at that lesson and should not have graduated demon school to stalking their very own fucked-up human. I know what’s coming, and even though I lift my hands to cover my ears, her voice sounds through my head. “What if they knew?” I don’t like the idea of that. Not even a little, but her voice is accented like what I imagine a cockroach would sound like if it were granted a voice box, all sharp angles and grating vowels. “Shut up, Brenda.” I sound stupid talking to my empty room because I’m the only one who knows it isn’t really empty. “You’d go from a loner to an all out freak.” The way she drags out ‘freak’ hurts more than her pincers in my back. My spinal cord is being tugged like a drawstring, and my vertebrae are collecting on themselves as I try to curl away from the sound. “Not all the way a girl, or all the way a boy. A bastardization of the two.” “I’m just as normal as everyone else,” I insist to the room, and the chittering continues. I know I’m normal. I know it. It’s like I have two brains. Logic brain and Brenda brain. Logic brain knows that non-binary people are real. Knows that I’m valid in my identity. Knows that there’s nothing wrong with being a ‘they’ and not a ‘she’ or a ‘he’ or a ‘s(he)’ or a ‘he/she’ or any other stupid way of enforcing a binary that isn’t real. That the punctuation barrier between the pronouns isn’t as solid as it looks typed on a page. The problem is the Brenda brain. The demon on my back whisper-hissing in my ear that I’m crazy. A freak. A bastardization of two genders. That I’ll never be accepted. I know she’s wrong. I know that I shouldn’t listen to the cheese-grater insults that she stabs through my eardrums. Brenda stutter-wheezes in my ear again, and this time it’s accompanied by the squelching ooze of Susan coming to play. I hate the suckling pops and gurgles of her tar-like tendrils winding their way up my blankets and sheets . I hate how they coil around my wrists, holding me on the bed. Covering my ears wasn’t working anyway, so no loss there, but it doesn’t mean I like the weight her sludge puts on me. Susan doesn’t need to speak for me to hear her telling me to give up. She tells me through the way she makes me tired, but not tired enough to sleep. Tired of trying to disprove Brenda. Tired of fighting with Helen in the mirror. Tired of being tired. Susan’s good at sucking my soul out of me through my skin, and the room gets darker every time she does it. Brenda’s engine-failure voice sounds once more in my ears, but I don’t fight her this time. What’s the point? “You can’t ever tell them. They’ll never understand you. Especially Finch.” Finch. I close my eyes, and it’s just as dark is when they’re open, but it feels a little safer. Finch’s voice in my head sounds so much nicer than Brenda’s. It’s higher than the other guys I know; not quite like hot chocolate—that’s too thick. It’s more like a warm tea with honey and milk. The perfect drinking temperature. I don’t quite sleep that night, but thinking about drinking in the tea of Finch’s voice lulls me into enough of a halfway place that I can reduce Brenda to nothing but clicks and snaps and white noise. I can forget that Susan is holding me to my bed and sucking my soul up through a straw. I can forget that I’ll have to face Helen weaponizing my reflection in the morning. I think maybe I can live in that space forever between half-real and half-dreaming, surrounded with the sound of everything that makes me feel safe. I can live forever in Finch’s voice. This weekend was…wow. I implore everyone who is able to afford it, please go to a writing conference. Even if it can’t be the Writer’s Digest Conference which was AMAZING, go and soak up what it’s like to be around people with the same passion as you do. Learn all of the different facets of writing you’ve never thought to explore. Feel the inspiration that pours off of the keynotes. And dear god, if you can, attend a pitch session—but that’s a blog post for another day. There are some sessions about craft that I would love to get into more detail about, and that will come, and I’d like to write about the Pitch Slam, but today I want to talk about the experience as a whole. I’ve never been to a writing conference. Sure, I’ve attended conventions—San Diego Comic Con, Anime Boston, New York Comic Con, etc—but this was my first writing conference, and I didn’t know what to expect. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m not great at striking up conversations with strangers. I want to, but it’s difficult for me. The people at this conference didn’t care—they helped me through the hardest part by reaching out to me. So many strangers tapped me on the shoulder, and offered smiles and kind greetings. They asked me about my genre and my book, and when I found the words to talk about it, I was only met with encouragement and excitement. More than that, I got to meet people from all over the country, and indeed, the world. I got to hear about their stories, and get glimpses into their experiences, and it was so beautiful. As for the sessions, I learned so much. I learned about crafting characters through setting. I learned about the publishing process. I learned about how to enhance your voice. I was part of a session about dissecting a well-written first page to learn about why it has such an impact. Plot twists, conflict, pacing—I could go on. I learned more in three days about writing than I think my head can fully hold. More than that, these sessions were inspiring. I can’t WAIT to look back at my manuscript. Scenes jumped to mind that could be strengthened by a sensory detail here, or by taking out a cliché there and replacing it with something more nuanced and concise. This post comes down to this. Open yourself up to experiences. Please, please, open yourself up to them. Be vulnerable. To people. To lessons. To the writers who came before you who want to pour all of their experiences into you so that you can achieve the most with your writing. I paid to have Annalisa Parent, a writing coach, and the dictionary definition of a sweetheart, read my first five pages. Afterward, she would give a fifteen minute session to critique them right there at the conference. I was nervous. I was afraid that the words I’d poured my heart into were going to get torn apart, but I allowed myself to be vulnerable to it—it’s the only way to grow. Annalisa ended up filling me with confidence, and the advice she provided me changed my entire conference and pitching experience. She challenged me to push my pitch in a different direction, and with only two hours before my session. If she hadn’t, and I hadn’t followed her advice, I would have undoubtedly not had the success I did. Writers, be vulnerable. Open yourselves up to everything this community has to offer, because once you get past how scary it is, it’s eye-opening. Of course, maintain your identity. Your work is YOURS and it always will be, but let what you glean from opening yourselves up influence and strengthen your words. You won’t be disappointed—I know I wasn’t. |
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