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New flash fiction piece!

My mind, like everyone’s right now, has been a swirling cesspool trying to process everything that’s going on in the world right now. The cesspool, mixed with a recent-ish encounter with my own children in a grocery store, spurned me to write this flash fiction piece which is now featured in the Rose City Sisters short fiction site. It feels so good to be writing and querying in the midst of the world going a new flavor of batshit crazy every day.

Enjoy! https://www.rosecitysisters.com/the-black-baby-by-kelly-i-hitchcock/

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Fuck off, COVID.

This dumb virus has affected everyone differently. For my part, I’ve been working my day job from home since early March, like everyone else, often while one or both four-year-olds comes in to inform me of the latest happenings (someone just pooped, a lego brick got lodged somewhere, Netflix is asking if they are still watching PJ Masks, etc.). I said at the beginning of this quarantine that I was going to do two things: get super fit and get a lot more writing done. Spoiler alert… neither has happened.

It sucks, too, because I have more fodder for my writing than ever before with all the crazy shit and emotional turmoil, but I am so burnt out from being a work at home parent I don’t even have the energy to tell Netflix I’m still watching most nights. A short time after the pandemic took its hold in the US, I reached out to the publisher I had been working with since last summer to get COMMUNITY KLEPTO on the shelves. I figured it would be a good time to get things rolling, since a lot of people stuck at home are reading more, but making manuscripts into books takes resources and capital that the publisher no longer had, so they are shelving all projects until further notice, including mine.

So, it’s back to the drawing board for now. Maybe they’ll come back to the table, or maybe I’ll find a new one. All I can say for certain is that coronavirus sucks, this isn’t the end for my writing, and I’ll probably never fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans again.

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Dr. Seuss, sexist pig? I got judged by a mommy prig.

A couple weeks ago I took my girls to their first reading at BookPeople, a really great independent bookstore here in Austin. I know the children’s book author and I must of course get my children used to behaving like complete angels at book readings for when COMMUNITY KLEPTO comes out. It also helped that the girls are obsessed with turtles right now, and the book is The Box Turtle.

As a reward for them being generally well-behaved during the reading and other activities (even if one of them pulled a sex book off the shelves and wanted me to read it to her in the middle of the turtle’s journey of self-discovery), I told them in addition to The Box Turtle they could each pick out one new book to take home. As soon as we meandered over to the children’s book section, me trying to keep them from breaking things, they were immediately drawn to a spinning shelf with all the Dr. Seuss books on it.

We spun the shelves for less than a minute, at which point a young couple with a baby (yes, just one) in a carrier walked by us. The mom must have assumed that my shrieking 3-year-old twins rendered me hard of hearing, because she turned to her partner and said “I would never read Dr. Seuss to our children because those books are sexist.” The dad looked horrified as he registered the fact that I was not in fact, deaf. I must have also looked horrified because I now felt like I was doing my girls a serious disservice by feeding their brains with the rhyming couplets of a sexist pig.

We’ve read plenty of books about girl empowerment – some I’ve enjoyed and some I wish would fall behind the couch forever (I’m looking at you, Olivia). We’ve read books about climate change and gay penguins. But my girls always come back to their Dr. Seuss books. We don’t have the entire collection, but here’s my take on the sexism in the ones we do have:

  • The Cat in the Hat: I should probably be more horrified that this neglectful mother left her young children at home, unsupervised, without a list of mind- and soul-enriching activities to do. Thing 1 and Thing 2 appear to be gender non-binary, so that’s a good introduction. And my girls need to know that cats cannot be trusted in real life.
  • Green Eggs and Ham: There are only 2 characters in this book and we’re pretty much led to believe Sam is male, but I’m far more worried about the message this book sends about asking for something over and over so much that the other person relents just so you’ll STFU.
  • The Foot Book: His feet. Her feet. Scary clown feet.
  • Oh, The Places You’ll Go: I’ve never actually finished this one because my girls get bored halfway through and ask for Are You My Mother?
  • Fox in Socks: It’s not about an attractive lady wearing fishnet stockings. It’s about a fox. Wearing socks. To the great chagrin of Mr. Knox.

Maybe these books are sexist, but they’re definitely not as blatantly sexist as some of the things I had to read in my 18th century British literature classes in college, and I have no intention of shielding my girls from Ben Jonson or Lord Byron either. We don’t live in the world of Dr. Seuss any more than we live in the world of Byron. Maybe this mom will manage to get her kid off to college without ever hearing Horton Hears a Who, but good luck with that, Judgy McJudgerson. I guess they’re also never going to take a history class or go to the movies with their friends lest the film not pass Mom’s Bechdel Test.

As for me and my house, we will read One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish and not dwell on the gender identity of the marine life. And apparently Dr. Seuss once wrote books called Boners, More Boners, and The Pocket Book of Boners, so I know what I’m getting myself for my birthday.

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2019 in review, author goals for 2020!

In 2019, I had only one writing goal – it was to get serious about submitting Community Klepto for publication and secure a book deal for it. On January 1, I hit the ground running and sent three query submissions. Then, I finally marked an item off my to-do list that had been on there for FAR too long; I dumped GoDaddy and (with the help of my husband who is way smarter than me) stood up hosting for my website myself and gave the website a little facelift. Before the end of January, a publisher wanted to see the full manuscript. Before I knew it, I had my first offer from the same publisher. I thought to myself, holy crap! How could it be this easy?!

Well, it wasn’t. The proposal was with a hybrid publisher who, while selective, required a pretty hefty investment on the part of the author. As attractive as the offer was, I said I wasn’t ready to commit to it yet. I told myself that if 2019 came to a close and I didn’t have any other prospects, I’d go back to the table and take the deal. Over the next 6 months, I sent over 20 more query submissions, one of which I didn’t hear back from until the last day of the year, and it was one of the three I’d sent on January 1! (That’s got to be some record.)

In July, I got a response back from another publisher. This one was local, a small but traditional independent press. The acquisitions editor and I sat down for coffee (outside, in August, in Austin… it gets hot in August in Austin). We discussed possibilities for Community Klepto, shook hands, and decided to move forward! This year, my primary goal is of course to put in the work to bring Community Klepto to market. We’re still editing, and there’s no date yet, but I’m excited about working with Lit City Press to make this book happen! Outside of Community Klepto, I have the following goals:

  • Write one poem per month. Even if they’re terrible Vogon poems. I only wrote one all year in 2019, and I need to do more.
  • Read 20 books. The first book I finished this year was Educated by Tara Westover. Technically I started it in 2019 but I’ll count it.
  • Publish a poem or short story in a literary journal. I did a decent amount of querying in 2019, but my material is so old, I need to get more works into the pipeline. I haven’t been featured in a journal since 2015!
  • Write a new short story. I have no idea what I’m going to write about – maybe returning PJ Masks toothbrushes to the grocery store because they were the wrong character.

Lots to come in 2020! Hope y’all will be along for the ride…

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COMMUNITY KLEPTO is officially happening!

I started writing this silly humor piece about a sociopath who stole from people at her gym way back when my gym was a community center in Mission, Kansas – before I moved to Austin, before I birthed two humans at the same time, before my hip joints started hating stairs. What started as a silly short story turned into a concept for my first long-form novel (I’d grown so comfortable with the short story collection form, writing novels seemed like it wasn’t really for me). I finished writing the book in the middle of a severe thunderstorm, workshopped the chapters while I was in my second trimester with the twins, finished editing it while toys were being thrown at my head, and sent queries after singing the good night song one last time.

Today I’m ridiculously excited (and a little proud) to announce that what started as this silly short story will soon be a novel called Community Klepto thanks to Austin-based independent publisher Lit City Press. I’m honored that they’ve chosen to take a chance on me and my work, and eager to work with them to get this book on shelves in 2020. The ink’s just dried on this little deal, so this journey is just starting and I hope my readers will follow it with me!

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An afternoon with @JudyBlume #MondayBlogs

Last weekend, I had the distinct pleasure of attending a talk and book signing with one of America’s most loved authors at BookPeople (I promise this will be the last time I mention the fact that Judy Blume and I have shared the exact same stage), pimping her newest book In The Unlikely Event, which I cannot wait to read. I don’t even remember the first Judy Blume book I read, but I remember that my mother forbade me–and by forbade I mean I picked it up as soon as I got the chance–from reading Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, not because of all the adult themed content it contained that my pre-teen brain could not possibly grasp, but because its title implied that it questioned the existence of God. Oh, Mom…

As a writer, I think I will always measure the honesty and authenticity of my own work against Judy Blume’s, not that I think I can ever even come close to her level. I remember after I wrote my first book, my mother was so unhappy with me for the things that I shared, and I had just finished reading Wifey, which exhibited a level of honesty that couldn’t even be classified in the same realm as what I portrayed in my book. I don’t know that I would ever have the courage to be half as honest as Judy Blume is in her books, especially the more adult-oriented ones. For that alone, I will always have undying respect and love for Blume’s work. Even Superfudge.

But back to the event! Blume is 77, but certainly doesn’t look it. I hope that when I am 77, I am A) still writing books and B) look as youthful as Judy. That Key West air must contain Retinol-A or something. I never knew how engaged she was/is with her fans. It never occurs to me to engage with an author I enjoy unless they share the same level of notoriety as me (so, very little); however, there were people in the audience who had been writing back and forth with Judy for YEARS, without ever losing touch. It’s now my life’s goal to keep in touch with all my fans, especially those who have been with me from my very first book, even after I write the career maker (which could very well be Community Klepto… who knows?).

She also talked in depth about censorship; in short, how fucking stupid it is. Just let your kids read. Let them be exposed to the world and form their own opinions of it. She also offered great advice for how to get your children to read something, saying “leave the book laying out and when they ask about, say ‘I don’t think you’re ready for that yet’.” It’s possible that’s what my mom was thinking when she made Are You There, God? verboten, but unlikely. To Mom’s credit, though, she never kept me from walking down the street or riding my bike to the public library, where I spent a lot of time and maxed out the balance on her library card. Nowadays, kids attempting to do the very same (and innocent) thing I did might draw the attention of Child Protective Services.

But my favorite moment of the event was when I was waiting in line for my brand new (and new book smelling) hardback copy of In The Unlikely Event to be signed. For the record, even though they have staff whose sole job is to take ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ at book signings, I decided I didn’t want to partake. It just seemed nice to have a private moment with her that I didn’t have to share with anyone else. The person in front of me was a mother with her young daughter (twelve or so), who told Blume that she (the daughter) was beginning to write short stories. To this, Judy replied, “You know, maybe my next thing will be to finally learn how to write short stories.” If I could say one thing in response to this, it would be, dearest Judy Blume, leave the impostor syndrome at the door. You’re one of this country’s most beloved storytellers of all time. You know how to write short stories; you just may not know it yet. Or maybe you were just trying to make a young writer feel better.

If you ever get a chance to see one of your favorite authors at a local bookstore event, take it. Even if it’s standing room only (which BookPeople was), the air conditioning doesn’t want to work (which it didn’t), or you can’t see (which I couldn’t–God bless the height challenged). It is SO worth it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to crack the spine of In The Unlikely Event.

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Portrait of Woman in Ink featured in Red City Review

Awhile back, you may recall, I entered a couple book award contests. I didn’t do well in either of them, so I was predictably sulky about it. One of them was the Red City Review 2014 Book Awards contest, which I entered even though the entry fee was enough to make me think twice (you know that old publishing mantra ‘money should always flow to the author – not the other way around’?). I didn’t win the contest; however, they did think enough of it to give it a very thoughtful 5-star review on their website.

Check it out their great review HERE!

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The Self, as Editor of Local Tech Mag

Lately, you may have noticed I have been unusually absent from regular blogging and tweeting. If you follow me on Twitter, you may also have noticed that my tweets have been abnormally comprised of baseball-related content, and thought “I didn’t even know she was a baseball fan…” Well, neither did I, not until the Kansas City Royals made it to the postseason for the first time since I was 3 years old, and then made it to the World Series. It was kind of a big deal, and also (as it turns out) played almost every single day, which made scheduling all things very difficult. Naturally, I was either slightly heartbroken or super butthurt (depending on whose version you hear) when we lost the World Series in game 7.  All this is to say, authors can be sports fans too, and I can dedicate myself far more fully to my craft with just one fall sport to focus on.

Another source of distraction lately has been my new volunteer gig – I’m part of the editorial staff for Velma Magazine, a local online publication dedicated to Austin women in tech. It’s been many a year since I worked for any sort of journalism outfit, so there’s been an acquainting phase not unlike when I first started using a fork. Or a Mac. Still, for all the craziness that comes with a new publication, it’s been incredibly rewarding and the women I work with are fantastic and sassy and super smart.

One of the most refreshing things that I’ve encountered in my short time as volunteer editor is that it’s okay to make mistakes and that it’s okay to feel stupid. This pretty much flies in the face of everything I was taught growing up, but it means I am actually learning something. As an author, I find this feeling very freeing. I don’t know everything, especially about how to sell my own work (hell, I’m jut now figuring out how to talk about my own work), but I can keep trying new things and growing and learning, even if the things I do are complete and total mistakes. Besides, who’s going to notice except, you know, the whole internet?

So in the words of my genius female developer friend: “Feeling stupid is good, it means you are learning. Now repeat until you believe it.”

Oh, and check out the magazine. Even if you’re not a lady, not in tech, or hate words. I write for it, so it’s therefore superior.

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In Which I Reflect on Christmases Past…

It’s a week before Christmas, it’s 80 degrees outside, and I’m enjoying a nice cup of spiked hot cider with a real cinnamon stick. It doesn’t sound like that reflective of a moment, but it is for me. When I was a kid, I thought both liquor and real cinnamon sticks were something only rich people buy. My fiance picked up a couple baggies of cinnamon sticks last night for a hot buttered rum recipe we decided to try. I have never bought cinnamon sticks before because I always assumed they were a luxury item for fancy people. Turns out, they are less than 99 cents.

It’s odd to think of something that costs 99 cents as a luxury item, but Crayolas are only a couple bucks more expensive than less-than-crayola crayons, and I never go to have those as a kid, either. Christmas time was always a very tense occasion in my family. They usually involved my parents getting payday loans and putting things on layaway, things that because I went to college and worked hard to get a good writing job I could stroll into the store and buy even on the last day before payday. There was always more fighting around Christmas as money got tighter, and I got more and more complacent about the holidays as the years went on.

But that’s Christmas past, not Christmas future. I don’t buy Christmas presents with payday loans or nearly-maxed out credit cards. My fiance has revived the Christmas spirit that I thought died in me a long time ago. We make Christmas our own – with liquor and Nutella-stuffed cookies and our wall of Christmas lights, Mystery Science Theater 3000’s Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, and silly Texas Christmas cards.

And this might just be the best Christmas ever.

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