The Circle of Time

This is my 44th consecutive smoke-free day. As my life as a smoker draws to a close, my career as a writer opens wide.

Life is a fabric woven from segments like these--intertwined memories and expectations, beginnings and endings, past, present, future--self and the universe. I am the pattern that emerges from this tapestry of choices and fate, traumas and celebrations, failures and triumphs. As it is with the universe, this pattern that is me is ever changing, ever renewing, ever becoming.

Most writers blog about the use of the semicolon, the proper format for a query letter, the upcoming release of their newest book, the source of inspiration, etc. Likewise, I intended to use "Magic of the Muses" to showcase my skill as a writer, promote the novels I've written, find the agent/publisher I'm seeking. My blog, however, evolved into an intimate diary of my quest to quit smoking.

Between the hours involved in blogging about this quest, and the time spent pacing and eating--distracted by cravings and pain--my writing career seemed to be going nowhere. Yet, in my inbox an email from an agent appeared, requesting a copy of my novel, "Noraebang" to review. Next came a tweet from an American scientist, interested in my tweeted and blogged campaign to quit.

As my nicotine cravings gradually fade along with the need to write about them, my time becomes increasing devoted to cultivating the interest in my writing sparked by "Magic of the Muses".

I am diligently pursuing an agent, preparing queries and answering responses. I'll keep you posted. Perhaps my next blog will be entitled, "Me and my Agent".

Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
http://www.eileenschuh.com/

Read a preview and excerpt from my novel
"Noraebang"
http://www.eileenschuh.com/noraebang/

On Addiction...

A week ago I decided to quit smoking. Last Thursday, I filled my Champix prescription and on Friday, rifled through the bag of stop-smoking goodies that the doctor gave me. A toothbrush, a pack of gum, a toy...954 brochures. Yesterday, I opened the pharmacy bag and looked at the Champix pills.

This morning, I ripped the cellophane off a new pack of smokes, took a drag, and settled back to read the literature.

"Studies show," one pamphlet says, "that nicotine is as addictive as heroin or cocaine." I wonder if that tidbit of trivia is supposed to make me feel better or worse about my decision.

I'm relieved to discover that I'm not supposed to quit until 10 to 14 days into the pills. When I take the first dose, I'm to set my quit date and announce it to the world. In the meantime, I'm to do thinking exercises, write down why I smoke, why I want to quit, what the advantages are to each. How, through alternate means, I can achieve the advantages of smoking. (Advantages like relieving tension, waking up in the morning, feeling pleasure.)

I butt out, fill my coffee mug, and light another cigarette.

I come up with the idea of blogging a diary about my quitting efforts, like: 'Day #1: finally opened the Champix and swallowed the pill.' The catch is, I'm soon going on a three week vacation, far from any Internet connection. 'Perhaps,' I think to myself, 'I can delay quitting until I get back.'

I'm enough of a veteran quitter to know, however, that it isn't my muses whispering inspiration to me, it's the sinister chuckle of the nicotine demons...

Young people,if you are thinking of smoking or have started smoking, let me tell you about the Nicotine Demons. It's they who plant the idea in your brain that you're not addicted--you can quit anytime you want to. And when you decide to quit to prove your theory and find yourself lighting up yet one more, it's they who convince you that you didn't really want to quit and therefore, your theory about not being addicted is correct. You can quit anytime--provided you want to.

Yes, the Nicotine Demons. They cleverly disguise their voices as your own thoughts.

I re-read the brochure.... "Studies show that nicotine is as addictive as heroin or cocaine." How can that be? From what I know about those illicit drugs, they deliver a much more intense rush of pleasure than a simple cigarette. I can't see myself raising funds for cigarettes by becoming a prostitute or robbing little old ladies. I certainly wouldn't abandoned my children for the pleasure of a puff. On the other hand, cigarettes are legal and available. What if they weren't?

No, cigarettes don't give you a flush of pleasure. Don't deliver a 'high' to fly you over top of your troubles. Nicotine Demons work their magic in a much craftier manner than that.

In nature, two organisms that bind together for the mutual benefit of both (like lichen which is a fungi and algae), are considered to have a 'symbiotic' relationship. If one organism eventually kills the other, it's called a 'parasitic' relationship. Nicotine bears the face of a willing symbiotic partner--but it is actually a parasite.

The Nicotine Demons invite you to believe that you are in control, that nicotine is your willing slave. If you want to relax, a puff will help you relax. If you want to wake up, it will give you energy. If you want some alone time, it will join you as a silent partner. If you want to socialize, it will boost your partying skills. It will tell you, if you're old, that you look much younger with a cigarette in hand. If you're an adolescent, it will tell you a billow of blue smoke about your head makes you look strong and independent.

Nicotine has even been proven to ease depression. It's an all-purpose drug--except it will kill you in the end.

I finger the card of Champix pills. What if I slither into the blackness of depression? What if I gain weight? What if I don't succeed? What if....

I drop the pills back into the bag. I can't tell which thoughts are mine and which are the disguised voices of the demons.


Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
www.eileenschuh.com

for more smoking trivia, visit my website

On a Cyberspace presence

About a month ago (July 9th to be exact) I posted my very first blog on 'Magic of the Muses'. I promised brilliance, smiles, warm hearts, and friendship. I'm hoping I've given you at least some of that. My other promise was that the blog would be the story of a writer's obsessive pursuit of her life-long dream of becoming a published novelist. So, how am I doing and where am I at?

The first chapter in that story (underwritten by my able publicist, Cheryl Kaye Tardiff) is about increasing my cyberspace presence. With the creation of 'Magic of the Muses', completion of my fantastic website, and acquisition of numerous Facebook friends, that first step is nearing completion.

Has it helped my career? If measured by publishing contracts or calls from agents, the honest answer would be 'no.' However, it's been my experience that few efforts in life produce immediate rewards. Something worth having, is worth working for.

In the writing and publishing industry, there are opposing views on the usefulness of cyberspace as a marketing tool. It's been said that publishers and editors are not carousing the web looking for talent. That is probably true. It is also true, however, that as in any profession, networking is a prelude to success.

The old adage, 'It's not what you know, but who you know,' still holds true in today's high-tech world. Any kind of networking not only establishes contacts, but is also a rich source of information, opinion, and feedback.

As well, by promoting myself in cyberspace, I'm cultivating a potential readership base to which I can market my books when that time arrives--a fact that will undoubtedly appeal to agents and publishers. I'm advertising, displaying my talent, arousing curiosity, getting my name out there. I am no longer a closet writer with lonely dreams. I am now a personable someone with a smile who has cool stories to tell (and sell)to the world. I'm arousing curiosity, displaying my talent, inviting the world to share my dream.

While a cyberspace presence may never totally replace personal networking, it's a valuable resource for connecting with many more people than even the most seasoned traveller could hope to meet.

I have found my cyberspace friends to be a great source of friendship, information, and inspiration. And, sometimes, they are also very well connected.

Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
www.eileenschuh.com

On Magic...

For those of you patiently waiting for my promised followup to my blog on muses...here it is, and it's all about magic. Forget David Copperfield, Kreskin, Houdini--mere illusionists. Once you know how their tricks are done, the magic vanishes. Harry Potter--fictional.

I'm talking about REAL magic. The kind of magic that, the more you know about it, the deeper is your wonder.

Consider the carrot seed.* Have you ever seen one? Dried up, tiny--almost microscopic. Lifeless, it would seem. Yet that seed takes the sunshine, earth, and rain and turns itself into a delicious, colourful, healthy, crunchy carrot. In that dried up speck is not only all the information needed to grow a carrot, but all the labour needed to make it happen.

A carrot--enabling you to imbibe the sunshine, taste the rain, and become a part of the vibrant world in which you live. Can it get much more magical than that?

Consider the elusive origins of your thoughts and inspiration. Magic.

Contemplate your night dreams. How is it possible to be surprised by your own dreams? How it is that you don't know what will happen next, what's behind the closed door, what words will next be spoken? How is it that you don't know how your own dream will end?

From where do the characters in your dreams come? Complete with bodies and faces and voices and personalities. Strangers--doing things you've never seen done, asking questions you've never asked, giving answers you did not know. Magic.

Wonder about rainbows, and sunlight, radio waves, and love. Cherish your own origin.

Believe in magic...

Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer

*When the heroine in my Back Tracker series, a young genius and an atheist, is dealt a tragic blow, she finds solace in her memory of Grandma Buckhold's lesson on the magical carrot seed. More info on this series is posted on my website. The Back Tracker Series


www.eileenschuh.com

On Magic and Muses. . .

Muses are spirits or goddesses worshipped by the ancient Greeks as the source of creative inspiration. From the muses comes 'mus-ic', 'a-muse-ment', 'mus-ing', 'be-mused', etc.

As cultures through the ages learned to identify the muses' presence, their names, powers, personalities, and numbers evolved. I thus feel entitled to ascribe my own characteristics to the muses which haunt me.

My main muse sits on my shoulder, just under my right ear, and whispers. If I ignore its whispering for too long, it gets agitated and begins to shout. My muse sometimes bears the wings of an angel but more often, it sports the forked tail of a demon.

My main muse has been known to dictate entire novels, and to stubbornly argue with me about characters and plots (and inevitably prevail). My muse often awakens me at odd hours of the night and never apologizes for keeping me up until dawn brightens the horizon. My muse hates my husband, despises my children, and is generally outright antagonistic toward anything or anybody that keeps me from my keyboard.

My muse is totally uninterested in the mundane matters of love, money, and publishing contracts. It abruptly vacates my shoulder the moment I peck my husband's cheek, ponder cents-paid-per-word. . .or begin a query letter.

I believe muses are a wonderful personification of the mysterious nature of creativity. Although my belief in their actual existence waivers, my belief in the reality of magic is much firmer. But that's an entirely new blog....

Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
http://www.eileenschuh.com/
(I invite you to visit again to read my future posting on the mysteries of magic.)