Let's see here... nothing inspirational, nothing funny, nothing disgusting, nothing even remotely interesting has happened to me lately.
Last night, we went camping with my FIL at a local lake. The kiddos were enthralled. Personally, I was just glad to have a mattress. Thus far, my children have yet to experience the joy of tent camping and peeing in the forest, and I thank God for that. There is nothing worse than getting bits of nature caught in your bits of nature, IMO. Which is why, when I read a book and the happy couple is going at it someplace like the beach or the woods, I think, "Gross."
This morning, we rode the bikes 3 miles into town for breakfast. Which would have been mildly enjoyable except for the fact that out of the gagillion gears my bike has, only two worked. Yes, picture out of shape mommy heaving it up the hills on a high gear. It was not pretty. But dangit, I rode the whole way, thank you very much.
Had a very nice breakfast, that I don't remember much of, since I was still getting the feeling back in my butt, and headed back to camp. Mostly downhill, except for one hill I'm going to call "the behemoth." It sucked. Especially since my FIL decided to help me out and get my bike into a really super low gear for the trip back. Which was awesome for conquering "the behemoth", let me tell you. I rode down that thing, thinking, "there is no way I'm getting back up this hill." I did. No getting off and walking for me. I did it.
Packed up camp, headed home, and because I come from a family with known mental problems, I decided to pull weeds. I spent an hour pulling weeds, filled one of those big trash cans, and I'm not sure you can see any difference.
However, given all my activity of late, I have to say that my butt still hurts, other parts of my body hurt, and now, I'm dealing with allergy issues.
But you want to know the really sick thing? I keep thinking that I need to do it more often.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Welcome Alexa Rose!
Yep, I'm an auntie again!!
Congrats to my baby sister, Danielle! I'm feeling extremely old right about now, since I remember when SHE was born-feeding her, changing her diapers, cuddling her, etc. Who'd have thought that the cute little baby I remember would have one of her own?
I'm actually slightly peeved, since she's so far away-I don't know when I'll get to see them and hold that baby. I would make threats and demands for pictures, but since I've been rather bad about that myself, I guess I'll just beg and look really pathetic in hopes that they'll take pity on me. I imagine Alexa is gorgeous-she's a mixed race baby, and I swear, those are the cutest babies on the planet. If I ever decide to kill off That Man (still need a lot more life insurance, though), I think I'll find myself a black man so we can have cute babies together. Not that mine aren't cute. Mine are pretty dang cute, if I do say so myself.
Anyway, if I get pics soon, I'll post some. Or, since I just realized she has a My Space, maybe I'll point you thataways and you can see her that way.
Congrats to my baby sister, Danielle! I'm feeling extremely old right about now, since I remember when SHE was born-feeding her, changing her diapers, cuddling her, etc. Who'd have thought that the cute little baby I remember would have one of her own?
I'm actually slightly peeved, since she's so far away-I don't know when I'll get to see them and hold that baby. I would make threats and demands for pictures, but since I've been rather bad about that myself, I guess I'll just beg and look really pathetic in hopes that they'll take pity on me. I imagine Alexa is gorgeous-she's a mixed race baby, and I swear, those are the cutest babies on the planet. If I ever decide to kill off That Man (still need a lot more life insurance, though), I think I'll find myself a black man so we can have cute babies together. Not that mine aren't cute. Mine are pretty dang cute, if I do say so myself.
Anyway, if I get pics soon, I'll post some. Or, since I just realized she has a My Space, maybe I'll point you thataways and you can see her that way.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Getting what is due
Today's been sort of an interesting day-I've found that a couple of people who I've been waiting to see get their due are in fact, getting their due. Now, I have to say, it isn't that I wish them ill. I don't sit around plotting for people's lives to fall apart. In fact, unless I'm actively angry with someone, I can pretty well forget they even exist as an irritant in my life.
And so, it's a weird deal when I find that someone I know is reaping what they've sown. I get pretty angry (and am in a snit over a couple of situations in this regard right now) when I watch people who consistently do bad or mean things continually have good things happen in their lives. I just don't understand how, in my life, for example, I feel like I'm always trying to do the right thing, and to be acting in accordance with God's will, and yet I feel like I'm always struggling, and the good things that fall into the laps of others seem to miss mine. I know, there isn't a direct correlation between me doing right and God handing out blessings. And truly, I don't follow Him for the blessing I seek. But I still get frustrated. Don't get me wrong, I have many blessings for which I am very thankful. It's just that other things I seek to have in my life aren't here yet. And people who are the biggest jerks in the world seem to be getting it. Which irritates the piss out of me. Seriously.
But then I hear things like I heard today, and realize that even though it's taken years for this to happen, people do show their true colors. And the ugly things in their nature come out. Their lives do end up suffering for their wrong actions. While there is a satisfied part of me that says, "FINALLY!", there is an equally sad part of me that wishes the person could have learned and grown instead.
It's funny, I'm such a believer in grace, and yet I am just as strong a believer in justice. There is no justice in grace. Because in grace, we are given what we don't deserve. Which is a contradiction of the emotions I express above. I am angry that these other people are getting what they don't deserve, things I feel that I do deserve. I am glad when people finally do get what they deserve.
And it makes me wonder if I'm not nearly as good as I think I am, and that maybe, as deserving as I think I might be, I'm really not. Deep down, I'm still a selfish jerk having a really hard time seeing things through God's eyes. And I feel extremely grateful that there is such a thing as grace, because without it, I would be lost indeed.
And so, it's a weird deal when I find that someone I know is reaping what they've sown. I get pretty angry (and am in a snit over a couple of situations in this regard right now) when I watch people who consistently do bad or mean things continually have good things happen in their lives. I just don't understand how, in my life, for example, I feel like I'm always trying to do the right thing, and to be acting in accordance with God's will, and yet I feel like I'm always struggling, and the good things that fall into the laps of others seem to miss mine. I know, there isn't a direct correlation between me doing right and God handing out blessings. And truly, I don't follow Him for the blessing I seek. But I still get frustrated. Don't get me wrong, I have many blessings for which I am very thankful. It's just that other things I seek to have in my life aren't here yet. And people who are the biggest jerks in the world seem to be getting it. Which irritates the piss out of me. Seriously.
But then I hear things like I heard today, and realize that even though it's taken years for this to happen, people do show their true colors. And the ugly things in their nature come out. Their lives do end up suffering for their wrong actions. While there is a satisfied part of me that says, "FINALLY!", there is an equally sad part of me that wishes the person could have learned and grown instead.
It's funny, I'm such a believer in grace, and yet I am just as strong a believer in justice. There is no justice in grace. Because in grace, we are given what we don't deserve. Which is a contradiction of the emotions I express above. I am angry that these other people are getting what they don't deserve, things I feel that I do deserve. I am glad when people finally do get what they deserve.
And it makes me wonder if I'm not nearly as good as I think I am, and that maybe, as deserving as I think I might be, I'm really not. Deep down, I'm still a selfish jerk having a really hard time seeing things through God's eyes. And I feel extremely grateful that there is such a thing as grace, because without it, I would be lost indeed.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
I am now officially in heaven
Did you know that there is such a thing as book tv?
My mom has dish tv, and as I was flipping through the channel guide, I saw an amazing thing... CNBC has Book TV. It's authors talking about their books.
I need to be on book tv.
Not that I aspire to be a TV star, because that's really not my gig. But come on, how cool would it be to have a tv show about books. Like Reading Rainbow for grownups. I dig Reading Rainbow.
Sadly, the book show is over. I'm going to bed.
My mom has dish tv, and as I was flipping through the channel guide, I saw an amazing thing... CNBC has Book TV. It's authors talking about their books.
I need to be on book tv.
Not that I aspire to be a TV star, because that's really not my gig. But come on, how cool would it be to have a tv show about books. Like Reading Rainbow for grownups. I dig Reading Rainbow.
Sadly, the book show is over. I'm going to bed.
Friday, August 11, 2006
AH-AH-AH-CHOOOOOOOOO
Aka why farm life is not for me.
Yes, I'm at my mom's. I took the kiddos for the weekend. I'm not sure what possessed me to do such a thing, it probably had something to do with the invite to my cousin's bridal shower, and the fact that the kiddos hadn't gotten their usual "grandma time", and I sorta feel bad that my last forays into farm central have been all about dropping off kiddos and not actually visiting the fam.
Whatever the reason, I've been here for seven hours and am ready to head back to the smog filled air I like to call home. I just can't breathe in this place. Waiting for drugs to kick in so I can go to bed. How did I survive growing up here? My kiddos, however, love it. And so far, I haven't had to drag out allergy meds for them.
I will say one thing for farm life. Since we are still on dial up, I don't get as much of a chance to be online. Plus, since it's not MY house, I don't have any work to tie me down (you know, like catching up on laundry). So, tonight, rather than doing my usual, and because Mom ordered pizza, I sat on the swing in the backyard and taught my 2 year old how to swing. There's something super cool about playing on the swings and not having to worry about getting home in time to start supper, or to get home to get some real work done, or to get to the next place in the long line of place we must stop at by the end of the day (what? You guys don't bribe your kids with a trip to the park if they will only stop whining so you can get through the line at the post office?). I also allowed her to lead me around and show me all the things a two year would think cool on a farm.
For example:
1. The horse peeing. It's a fascinating sight to someone who's potty training. Which leads to great conversation-"Horsie go pee." "Yes, honey, the horse is peeing." "Horsie go potty." "Yes, the horsie is going potty." "Horsie needs to go inside and use big girl potty." Uh, no. "Let's go see what the dogs are doing."
2. The dogs humping. "What doggies doing?" "Boys, stop it! Bad Dogs!" (Yes, they are two males-could someone please tell me why it's only the male animals that feel the need to copulate like mad?) "Bad Doggies!" "Come on, let's go find Poppa."
3. Poppa's tractor. "Baby go ride tractor." Baby runs in direction of running tractor. "Wait! Stay out of Poppa's way." "Baby go ride tractor." Tractor makes loud noise as the back thingy that they're messing with finally drops. "Tractor loud, Mommy. Go Play." So we went and played on the swings.
And then of course, there's the time we've spent snuggling on the couch. I do love those girls. For whatever reason, when we're here, they seem to snuggle a lot more. It reminds me how much I love being their mom. They may be little terrorists, but I'll tell you, there is nothing sweeter than my girls.
So even though my sinuses are revolting, even though my eyes feel like sandpaper, and I think my lungs have ceased to operate, I'm having a good time. Tomorrow, it's off to see the rest of the fam, drink some punch, and see what other fun can be had. I imagine I'll be doing some laundry, because well, it just wouldn't be my life without it. Thus far today I've been peed on, had a messy butt wiped on, spilled BBQ sauce on, and probably a few other nasty encounters. Add in a child with a fire ant encounter that led to dumping her fully clothed into a pool, and my clean clothes bag is suddenly running a bit short.
Life on the farm is never, ever, dull.
Yes, I'm at my mom's. I took the kiddos for the weekend. I'm not sure what possessed me to do such a thing, it probably had something to do with the invite to my cousin's bridal shower, and the fact that the kiddos hadn't gotten their usual "grandma time", and I sorta feel bad that my last forays into farm central have been all about dropping off kiddos and not actually visiting the fam.
Whatever the reason, I've been here for seven hours and am ready to head back to the smog filled air I like to call home. I just can't breathe in this place. Waiting for drugs to kick in so I can go to bed. How did I survive growing up here? My kiddos, however, love it. And so far, I haven't had to drag out allergy meds for them.
I will say one thing for farm life. Since we are still on dial up, I don't get as much of a chance to be online. Plus, since it's not MY house, I don't have any work to tie me down (you know, like catching up on laundry). So, tonight, rather than doing my usual, and because Mom ordered pizza, I sat on the swing in the backyard and taught my 2 year old how to swing. There's something super cool about playing on the swings and not having to worry about getting home in time to start supper, or to get home to get some real work done, or to get to the next place in the long line of place we must stop at by the end of the day (what? You guys don't bribe your kids with a trip to the park if they will only stop whining so you can get through the line at the post office?). I also allowed her to lead me around and show me all the things a two year would think cool on a farm.
For example:
1. The horse peeing. It's a fascinating sight to someone who's potty training. Which leads to great conversation-"Horsie go pee." "Yes, honey, the horse is peeing." "Horsie go potty." "Yes, the horsie is going potty." "Horsie needs to go inside and use big girl potty." Uh, no. "Let's go see what the dogs are doing."
2. The dogs humping. "What doggies doing?" "Boys, stop it! Bad Dogs!" (Yes, they are two males-could someone please tell me why it's only the male animals that feel the need to copulate like mad?) "Bad Doggies!" "Come on, let's go find Poppa."
3. Poppa's tractor. "Baby go ride tractor." Baby runs in direction of running tractor. "Wait! Stay out of Poppa's way." "Baby go ride tractor." Tractor makes loud noise as the back thingy that they're messing with finally drops. "Tractor loud, Mommy. Go Play." So we went and played on the swings.
And then of course, there's the time we've spent snuggling on the couch. I do love those girls. For whatever reason, when we're here, they seem to snuggle a lot more. It reminds me how much I love being their mom. They may be little terrorists, but I'll tell you, there is nothing sweeter than my girls.
So even though my sinuses are revolting, even though my eyes feel like sandpaper, and I think my lungs have ceased to operate, I'm having a good time. Tomorrow, it's off to see the rest of the fam, drink some punch, and see what other fun can be had. I imagine I'll be doing some laundry, because well, it just wouldn't be my life without it. Thus far today I've been peed on, had a messy butt wiped on, spilled BBQ sauce on, and probably a few other nasty encounters. Add in a child with a fire ant encounter that led to dumping her fully clothed into a pool, and my clean clothes bag is suddenly running a bit short.
Life on the farm is never, ever, dull.
Marriage advice from a five year old
And it's good, so pay attention.
I was tucking B in tonight, and she was stalling, as usual. We got into this discussion of how much I love her.
"Mom, do you love me a hundred times?"
"I love you a hundred million times."
"No, you're supposed to love your husband a hundred million times."
"I do love him a hundred million times. But I also love you guys a hundred million times."
"No, you have to love your husband more."
Brilliant Point number One
"Honey, I do."
"You also shouldn't get angry with your husband." (I SWEAR, we have not been fighting lately. We're actually doing quite well.)
Brilliant Point number Two
"I try not to. But sometimes grownups get angry. You just have to work it out."
"And apolo... what's that word?"
"Apologize."
"Yes. Apologize. You should always apologize for getting angry with your husband."
Brilliant Point number Three
"I apologize to my husband." (And why, exactly, am I justifying my marriage to my five year old?)
"And you should kiss your husband a lot."
Brilliant Point number Four
"I kiss my husband a lot."
"You should kiss him more."
Brilliant Point number Five.
So, in case you're having marital troubles, or just want to know how to have a happy marriage when your turn comes, there it is. Five easy steps to having a good marriage. I have no idea where she got all of this, but it's brilliant stuff.
And just in case I didn't tickle your funny bone enough, here's something that I wish I was daring enough to try. I'm back in tax classes, upping my certification levels for another year. One of my classmates, to put it nicely, is a royal pain. I noticed the other day a fun little quirk she has. When she gets to class and sets her things on her desk in preparation, one of the things she sets out is...
I'm almost tempted to leave you hanging, it's so hillarious.
Okay, I won't. Because then, you'll miss my funny point.
She sets her bottle of Prozac on her desk.
No, I am not kidding.
So here's the funny thing I want to try... what if I did that? Who is going to mess with a chick who's got her meds proudly displayed on her desk? Sadly, I'm not on any meds because for the most part, I don't believe in them (but check with your doctor, okay-don't go off meds because I said I don't believe in them for the most part). But wouldn't that be hillarious? I could line up a bunch of pill bottles for being a psychopath and then no one would mess with me. They'd be too scared I'd go off on them or something.
Hey, maybe that is marriage advice point number six: When you can't beat 'em, make 'em think you're so freaking nuts, they leave you alone.
Our house must be so hard to live in with all this brilliance floating about...
I was tucking B in tonight, and she was stalling, as usual. We got into this discussion of how much I love her.
"Mom, do you love me a hundred times?"
"I love you a hundred million times."
"No, you're supposed to love your husband a hundred million times."
"I do love him a hundred million times. But I also love you guys a hundred million times."
"No, you have to love your husband more."
Brilliant Point number One
"Honey, I do."
"You also shouldn't get angry with your husband." (I SWEAR, we have not been fighting lately. We're actually doing quite well.)
Brilliant Point number Two
"I try not to. But sometimes grownups get angry. You just have to work it out."
"And apolo... what's that word?"
"Apologize."
"Yes. Apologize. You should always apologize for getting angry with your husband."
Brilliant Point number Three
"I apologize to my husband." (And why, exactly, am I justifying my marriage to my five year old?)
"And you should kiss your husband a lot."
Brilliant Point number Four
"I kiss my husband a lot."
"You should kiss him more."
Brilliant Point number Five.
So, in case you're having marital troubles, or just want to know how to have a happy marriage when your turn comes, there it is. Five easy steps to having a good marriage. I have no idea where she got all of this, but it's brilliant stuff.
And just in case I didn't tickle your funny bone enough, here's something that I wish I was daring enough to try. I'm back in tax classes, upping my certification levels for another year. One of my classmates, to put it nicely, is a royal pain. I noticed the other day a fun little quirk she has. When she gets to class and sets her things on her desk in preparation, one of the things she sets out is...
I'm almost tempted to leave you hanging, it's so hillarious.
Okay, I won't. Because then, you'll miss my funny point.
She sets her bottle of Prozac on her desk.
No, I am not kidding.
So here's the funny thing I want to try... what if I did that? Who is going to mess with a chick who's got her meds proudly displayed on her desk? Sadly, I'm not on any meds because for the most part, I don't believe in them (but check with your doctor, okay-don't go off meds because I said I don't believe in them for the most part). But wouldn't that be hillarious? I could line up a bunch of pill bottles for being a psychopath and then no one would mess with me. They'd be too scared I'd go off on them or something.
Hey, maybe that is marriage advice point number six: When you can't beat 'em, make 'em think you're so freaking nuts, they leave you alone.
Our house must be so hard to live in with all this brilliance floating about...
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Back to Faith in a roundabout way
Yes I know, I'm a bad, bad blogger. Partially, I have nothing to say. Partially, I get tired of whining about myself. Mostly, I'm still in my funk and have been doing a lot of reading. I'd thought, until I ended up with another headache tonight, that I was doing much better as a result of my catching up on reading. Sometimes, all I need is a few good books to get me out of a funk.
Books I've read in the past couple of days:
Body Work by Fiona Brand: serial killer story-fun, fun, fun
Dead Silence by Brenda Novak: great suspense-can't wait for the next one
Here Comes Trouble by Leslie Kelly: I about wet my pants, it was so funny
My So-Called Love Life by Allie Pleiter: I don't want to discuss it.
Okay, fine. I will discuss Allie's book. Partially because she's the sweetest woman on earth, partially because she actually made knitting sound interesting, and partially because if I praise her enough and she somehow stumbles on my blog, she won't kill me. Because right now, she's on my "die, scoundrel" list. Eventually, I will get over it and be happy, however, I am still reeling from the last five lines on page 215. Sadly, it's making me wonder if maybe I don't have my own priorities mixed up. And I'm not entirely sure what to do about it. Hence, my murderous threats. I know that when I figure things out, I'll be glad of it all, but really... there's only so much messing with my head that I can stand.
Since I'm ranting, I may as well just come out with it all and say that I want people to read my books and do the same thing-to find a line or two that just gets them and does something to their hearts. Is that egotistical of me? But seriously. What is the point of writing if it doesn't change lives?
One of the few workshops I went to at RWA was the PRO Retreat, where Bob Mayer and Jenny Crusie talked about blogs and websites. They said that for your blog or website to be most effective, it needed to have a purpose. Even though I go on my weird bunny trails, I've always had one important purpose-to impact lives. And maybe it's a little ambitious to say that people reading my ramblings are somehow improved and uplifted by it.
That's always been my goal for my books-starting with when I first set the goal to write a book ten years ago. I didn't think, back then, that I had anything worth telling, that a kid like me would be able to inspire others to greatness. I waited five years to even begin writing, and then, because I didn't think I was ready or able to write anything serious, I wrote stuff that had nothing to do with my original aims. I still think I'm falling short of those aims.
Is it that I still lack faith? Um, yeah. Let's be honest. Oh wait, I always am. I hope, that if anyone gets anything from any of this is that I'm doing what I can to be real. I'm pretty sick of the lack of authenticity in this world. I'm sick of watching people try to be something they're not in order to well... what? Seriously. What is the point? Why are we all trying to be whatever it is we're trying to be?
Going back to my rant about Allie's book. What is it that we're chasing after and why? Are those our priorities or God's priorities? What's first? As much as I say I want God to be first, frankly, I'm not doing such a good job of it.
So why am I stalling on all of this? Why am I fighting what is so clearly in my heart that I need to be doing? Because as much as I hunger for God, as much as I want it to be all about God, it's still all about me. As long as *I* am in the center, it's simply not going to happen.
Explosives, anyone?
Books I've read in the past couple of days:
Body Work by Fiona Brand: serial killer story-fun, fun, fun
Dead Silence by Brenda Novak: great suspense-can't wait for the next one
Here Comes Trouble by Leslie Kelly: I about wet my pants, it was so funny
My So-Called Love Life by Allie Pleiter: I don't want to discuss it.
Okay, fine. I will discuss Allie's book. Partially because she's the sweetest woman on earth, partially because she actually made knitting sound interesting, and partially because if I praise her enough and she somehow stumbles on my blog, she won't kill me. Because right now, she's on my "die, scoundrel" list. Eventually, I will get over it and be happy, however, I am still reeling from the last five lines on page 215. Sadly, it's making me wonder if maybe I don't have my own priorities mixed up. And I'm not entirely sure what to do about it. Hence, my murderous threats. I know that when I figure things out, I'll be glad of it all, but really... there's only so much messing with my head that I can stand.
Since I'm ranting, I may as well just come out with it all and say that I want people to read my books and do the same thing-to find a line or two that just gets them and does something to their hearts. Is that egotistical of me? But seriously. What is the point of writing if it doesn't change lives?
One of the few workshops I went to at RWA was the PRO Retreat, where Bob Mayer and Jenny Crusie talked about blogs and websites. They said that for your blog or website to be most effective, it needed to have a purpose. Even though I go on my weird bunny trails, I've always had one important purpose-to impact lives. And maybe it's a little ambitious to say that people reading my ramblings are somehow improved and uplifted by it.
That's always been my goal for my books-starting with when I first set the goal to write a book ten years ago. I didn't think, back then, that I had anything worth telling, that a kid like me would be able to inspire others to greatness. I waited five years to even begin writing, and then, because I didn't think I was ready or able to write anything serious, I wrote stuff that had nothing to do with my original aims. I still think I'm falling short of those aims.
Is it that I still lack faith? Um, yeah. Let's be honest. Oh wait, I always am. I hope, that if anyone gets anything from any of this is that I'm doing what I can to be real. I'm pretty sick of the lack of authenticity in this world. I'm sick of watching people try to be something they're not in order to well... what? Seriously. What is the point? Why are we all trying to be whatever it is we're trying to be?
Going back to my rant about Allie's book. What is it that we're chasing after and why? Are those our priorities or God's priorities? What's first? As much as I say I want God to be first, frankly, I'm not doing such a good job of it.
So why am I stalling on all of this? Why am I fighting what is so clearly in my heart that I need to be doing? Because as much as I hunger for God, as much as I want it to be all about God, it's still all about me. As long as *I* am in the center, it's simply not going to happen.
Explosives, anyone?
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Life without diarrhea
I don't know why I wrote that... I'll be popping up in all the search results for folks who are looking to solve their bowel issues. Ah well, it's better to pop up for talking about poop than it is for talking about terrorists, right?
Anyway... what would my most loyal readers wish to hear about tonight?
Headache status... mostly gone.
Yesterday, we had a surprise farewell party for DSS, who leaves Wed for college. Then, I headed up to the mountains to my writer friend (of Defeating Self Defeating Behaviors fame) Margie's house, for a writer BBQ. No, we didn't BBQ writers. Actually, I was late and full from the other party, so I didn't eat. But we did talk writing. One of her guests was a NYT bestseller who is amazing, generous, and very free with advice on the business end of writing. Learned a lot of cool stuff, so that was good.
Once she left, however, I had a moment on the hotseat where I had to talk about what I was working on. And so finally, kicking and screaming, I might have a confession to make.
I think I'm supposed to be writing inspirational.
Peanut gallery, STFU.
I'm laughing at myself here, because some of you know what STFU means. Very uninspirational, I can assure you. But here's the funny part. I had a conversation with a SH editor, just shooting the breeze, and I made a comment about how I've been targeting a particular line, and my crits came back saying, "this sounds like an inspirational." And my response was, "sh*t". The editor laughed, and said, "well that's not inspirational." Yes, I know.
See, this is why I fight inspirational. I'm just me. Messed up, trying as hard as I can to figure it all out, but frankly, rather than sitting in my little choir group singing kumbayah praise songs, I'm plotting the rather violent deaths of all the people who piss me off. Those of you who know me well know I'm serious. Crap. Now I've probably got more cops watching me. Oh well. They'll eventually figure out that I'm a crazy lady with more bark than bite.
Back to the whole inspirational thing... when God asked me to write a nonfiction book about being a Christian, I said no because I never felt like I was qualified. I still don't feel qualified. Who am I to write some book about God-even on a fiction level-when I am so totally screwed up? When I was at RWA, I barely cracked open my Bible, and I think that was to prove a point about something I was arguing. Prayer-a couple of muttered things before a couple of meals, maybe when I was in the throes of migraine-dom, and definitely while Dana and I were braving the savage creatures who roam the streets of Atlanta at night. For all my blustering about God, I can't even keep it together for a week while I'm out of my normal routine.
The truth is, my life, and my view of the world, is diarrhea. It's messy, it's gross, and at the end of the day, some poor sucker has to clean it up. I can't imagine that anyone, save a few sick souls who, like me, happen to think diarrhea is hillarious, would want to read about it. I can't imagine not writing diarrhea. My books are full of it. And the thing is-a lot of the things you find in diarrhea are the sorts of things you just can't write about under the "Christian" umbrella. Not that I'm knocking those guidelines. I very much understand and appreciate why they're in place. But if what I'm supposed to write is all diarrhea, which has no place in the Christianity the publishing world is allowed to portray, and also has no place in the mainstream world because I dare talk about God and Jesus, then where exactly does it belong?
I'm potty training the two year old. She regressed while I was gone, and so today, as she stood pooping on the back porch (in her diaper, I just know the "I'm pooping look" she gets), I had to tell her to stop, carry her to the toilet, and remind her how to properly do her business. I guess maybe it's time I figured out how to do mine.
Toilet paper, anyone?
Anyway... what would my most loyal readers wish to hear about tonight?
Headache status... mostly gone.
Yesterday, we had a surprise farewell party for DSS, who leaves Wed for college. Then, I headed up to the mountains to my writer friend (of Defeating Self Defeating Behaviors fame) Margie's house, for a writer BBQ. No, we didn't BBQ writers. Actually, I was late and full from the other party, so I didn't eat. But we did talk writing. One of her guests was a NYT bestseller who is amazing, generous, and very free with advice on the business end of writing. Learned a lot of cool stuff, so that was good.
Once she left, however, I had a moment on the hotseat where I had to talk about what I was working on. And so finally, kicking and screaming, I might have a confession to make.
I think I'm supposed to be writing inspirational.
Peanut gallery, STFU.
I'm laughing at myself here, because some of you know what STFU means. Very uninspirational, I can assure you. But here's the funny part. I had a conversation with a SH editor, just shooting the breeze, and I made a comment about how I've been targeting a particular line, and my crits came back saying, "this sounds like an inspirational." And my response was, "sh*t". The editor laughed, and said, "well that's not inspirational." Yes, I know.
See, this is why I fight inspirational. I'm just me. Messed up, trying as hard as I can to figure it all out, but frankly, rather than sitting in my little choir group singing kumbayah praise songs, I'm plotting the rather violent deaths of all the people who piss me off. Those of you who know me well know I'm serious. Crap. Now I've probably got more cops watching me. Oh well. They'll eventually figure out that I'm a crazy lady with more bark than bite.
Back to the whole inspirational thing... when God asked me to write a nonfiction book about being a Christian, I said no because I never felt like I was qualified. I still don't feel qualified. Who am I to write some book about God-even on a fiction level-when I am so totally screwed up? When I was at RWA, I barely cracked open my Bible, and I think that was to prove a point about something I was arguing. Prayer-a couple of muttered things before a couple of meals, maybe when I was in the throes of migraine-dom, and definitely while Dana and I were braving the savage creatures who roam the streets of Atlanta at night. For all my blustering about God, I can't even keep it together for a week while I'm out of my normal routine.
The truth is, my life, and my view of the world, is diarrhea. It's messy, it's gross, and at the end of the day, some poor sucker has to clean it up. I can't imagine that anyone, save a few sick souls who, like me, happen to think diarrhea is hillarious, would want to read about it. I can't imagine not writing diarrhea. My books are full of it. And the thing is-a lot of the things you find in diarrhea are the sorts of things you just can't write about under the "Christian" umbrella. Not that I'm knocking those guidelines. I very much understand and appreciate why they're in place. But if what I'm supposed to write is all diarrhea, which has no place in the Christianity the publishing world is allowed to portray, and also has no place in the mainstream world because I dare talk about God and Jesus, then where exactly does it belong?
I'm potty training the two year old. She regressed while I was gone, and so today, as she stood pooping on the back porch (in her diaper, I just know the "I'm pooping look" she gets), I had to tell her to stop, carry her to the toilet, and remind her how to properly do her business. I guess maybe it's time I figured out how to do mine.
Toilet paper, anyone?
Friday, August 04, 2006
Crappy Day
Literally I'm afraid.
I pretty much spent the day cleaning up crap in one form or another. Allow me to enumerate:
1. Woke up to child smelling of spray stain remover for clothes-the petrochemical sort.
2. Get kiddo to shower and realize that my bed is covered in dog vomit.
3. Take shower, clean up kid, clean up dog vomit.
4. Realize that we're late to take B to school, rush off to school, get a phone call on the way to school-we were supposed to pick up another kid. Get other kid, show up late to school.
5. Return home to realize that child had sprayed stain remover all over kitchen.
6. Open cupboard to find scrub brush, realize sink is leaking and has been leaking for some time, given the mess under the sink.
7. Clean up mess under sink, petrochemical mess, and realize that the dog has made diarrhea all over the bedroom floor.
8. Clean up dog diarrhea and begin regular housework-realizing that it is now nearly noon, and almost time to get kiddo and friend from school.
9. Get laundry folded and bring into bedroom to hang up. Realize that dog has made diarrhea all over the "to be dry cleaned" pile. AKA my favorite "dry clean only" clothes.
10. Pick up said clothing and throw it in washer on delicate, praying that it will get diarrhea out and not ruin the clothes.
11. Pick up kiddos from school. Send them and dog out back. Go out and supervise because meter reader is here to download my meter on to his computer, and I don't want the kids or dog to terrorize the poor man, but neither do I want them terrorizing my house.
12. 2:30 PM-FINALLY get to my project of the day: picking up the family room. Between kiddo interruptions, finally get that done at 4.
13. DH returns home and I head to 4:30 chiro appointment to see if we can finally get rid of this headache. Yes, I still have migraine that began Saturday night. Today, we tried adjustment, acupuncture (yes, I got needles in my face. It felt good), and finally, drugs. It's down to a dull ache.
14. Returned home to find kid that was supposed to be picked up at 3 is still there-change dinner plans. Which goes back to the problem from last night-my oven stopped working last night. So tonight, I had to cook on the grill.
And so, I'm sure you'll all understand why I am very much looking forward to going to bed tonight. Tomorrow HAS to be a better day.
I pretty much spent the day cleaning up crap in one form or another. Allow me to enumerate:
1. Woke up to child smelling of spray stain remover for clothes-the petrochemical sort.
2. Get kiddo to shower and realize that my bed is covered in dog vomit.
3. Take shower, clean up kid, clean up dog vomit.
4. Realize that we're late to take B to school, rush off to school, get a phone call on the way to school-we were supposed to pick up another kid. Get other kid, show up late to school.
5. Return home to realize that child had sprayed stain remover all over kitchen.
6. Open cupboard to find scrub brush, realize sink is leaking and has been leaking for some time, given the mess under the sink.
7. Clean up mess under sink, petrochemical mess, and realize that the dog has made diarrhea all over the bedroom floor.
8. Clean up dog diarrhea and begin regular housework-realizing that it is now nearly noon, and almost time to get kiddo and friend from school.
9. Get laundry folded and bring into bedroom to hang up. Realize that dog has made diarrhea all over the "to be dry cleaned" pile. AKA my favorite "dry clean only" clothes.
10. Pick up said clothing and throw it in washer on delicate, praying that it will get diarrhea out and not ruin the clothes.
11. Pick up kiddos from school. Send them and dog out back. Go out and supervise because meter reader is here to download my meter on to his computer, and I don't want the kids or dog to terrorize the poor man, but neither do I want them terrorizing my house.
12. 2:30 PM-FINALLY get to my project of the day: picking up the family room. Between kiddo interruptions, finally get that done at 4.
13. DH returns home and I head to 4:30 chiro appointment to see if we can finally get rid of this headache. Yes, I still have migraine that began Saturday night. Today, we tried adjustment, acupuncture (yes, I got needles in my face. It felt good), and finally, drugs. It's down to a dull ache.
14. Returned home to find kid that was supposed to be picked up at 3 is still there-change dinner plans. Which goes back to the problem from last night-my oven stopped working last night. So tonight, I had to cook on the grill.
And so, I'm sure you'll all understand why I am very much looking forward to going to bed tonight. Tomorrow HAS to be a better day.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Blah blah blah
Still trying to dig out my house. Still have to get the downstairs in order, but you know, I did go grocery shopping. I was so proud of myself, I planned our menus for the next week, made a great dinner (new recipe-thanks to the Gal Pal recipe book), and then I realized-on the first day cool enough to use it-my oven is broken. Had my first tax class of the off season (sort of-I forgot to go on Tues), so I had to rush off. So much for being organized. See, this is why I don't bother.
Still fighting headaches. Went to the chiro yesterday and I was way out, so I'm back tomorrow. It's just this constant dull ache. Ugh.
Also, I finished the new beginning to TMB. I've decided to stick to my original plan and NOT go inspy with it, but we'll see what happens. It's printed, so now I have to do the read through and paper edits, then I'll ship it off to the UK.
I'm hoping to buckle down and get more on The Book done. I keep changing focus. Er, maybe I just can't get focused. I don't know. Frankly, when my head is like this, I can't think of much of anything. I just don't know where to go. Guess it's time to dig back into the Bible, see what God decides to tell me. I'm probably making it more complicated than I need to.
I should probably say something interesting, so here goes:
Books I'm currently reading and/or planning on reading soon.
1. A renegade's guide to God by David Foster (it's an ARC, not out until Nov)-FANTASTIC book. You want to know where I'm at in my faith, this is it. And makes me wonder why I'm writing MY book, when Foster nails it for me.
2. Georgia on her Mind by Rachel Hauck-it's the monthly SH read, so read it.
3. Dead Silence by Brenda Novak-it's the monthly MM read, so read that one too. Plus, I've never read a Brenda Novak book I didn't like. :)
And with that, I'm going to bed. Did I mention my head hurts?
Still fighting headaches. Went to the chiro yesterday and I was way out, so I'm back tomorrow. It's just this constant dull ache. Ugh.
Also, I finished the new beginning to TMB. I've decided to stick to my original plan and NOT go inspy with it, but we'll see what happens. It's printed, so now I have to do the read through and paper edits, then I'll ship it off to the UK.
I'm hoping to buckle down and get more on The Book done. I keep changing focus. Er, maybe I just can't get focused. I don't know. Frankly, when my head is like this, I can't think of much of anything. I just don't know where to go. Guess it's time to dig back into the Bible, see what God decides to tell me. I'm probably making it more complicated than I need to.
I should probably say something interesting, so here goes:
Books I'm currently reading and/or planning on reading soon.
1. A renegade's guide to God by David Foster (it's an ARC, not out until Nov)-FANTASTIC book. You want to know where I'm at in my faith, this is it. And makes me wonder why I'm writing MY book, when Foster nails it for me.
2. Georgia on her Mind by Rachel Hauck-it's the monthly SH read, so read it.
3. Dead Silence by Brenda Novak-it's the monthly MM read, so read that one too. Plus, I've never read a Brenda Novak book I didn't like. :)
And with that, I'm going to bed. Did I mention my head hurts?
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Dear Stupid Head Self
One of the things Dana nudged me about at the conference was that I need to pick something and stick to it. Okay, fine. So I have taken a few works out of the game and am focusing on my sweet romance. Done. However, given that I keep getting comments that I should be writing inspirational, I am still in the debate of mainstream versus inspirational.
What do I write today?
A freaking love scene.
No, it isn't graphic, or anything like that. However, I seriously doubt that my saying "They made love in the meadow" is going to be something that will make Krista or Joan read, jump up and down, and say, "what a perfect inspirational story".
And yet, it's vital to the story, adds that extra emotional punch, is between a married couple, and now that I've written it, I know what's been missing from this story all along.
Please shoot me.
On the plus side, this is the story I was whining about needing a subplot. I have almost thirty new pages in it since Sunday. I took Joanne Rock's advice and re-wrote the beginning from scratch and realized I didn't start early enough in their story. And since I've also realized that my heroine is not as well developed, I can use the extra room for her. I think I may just end up going over rather than being short.
My advice for today: Go ahead and spend some time just writing crap that you aren't sure will end up in the final product or not. Take the time to figure out things tha need to be figured, and the story will open up in ways you never expected.
However, if you're like my stupid head self, I would recommend ignoring my advice, because invariably, stupid head self will rear up, and in the fear of having to actually commit to one genre, do something absolutely stupid like have a couple make love in the middle of a meadow when you'd been thinking they might be inspirational.
Oops
However, in the interest of being positive, let's think that this is the nudge I needed to decide to stick with my original game plan of Harlequin Romance. At least there I can say those three dreaded words, "they made love."
Amazing how three little words can change a person's direction, even if you still aren't sure that's the direction you want.
What do I write today?
A freaking love scene.
No, it isn't graphic, or anything like that. However, I seriously doubt that my saying "They made love in the meadow" is going to be something that will make Krista or Joan read, jump up and down, and say, "what a perfect inspirational story".
And yet, it's vital to the story, adds that extra emotional punch, is between a married couple, and now that I've written it, I know what's been missing from this story all along.
Please shoot me.
On the plus side, this is the story I was whining about needing a subplot. I have almost thirty new pages in it since Sunday. I took Joanne Rock's advice and re-wrote the beginning from scratch and realized I didn't start early enough in their story. And since I've also realized that my heroine is not as well developed, I can use the extra room for her. I think I may just end up going over rather than being short.
My advice for today: Go ahead and spend some time just writing crap that you aren't sure will end up in the final product or not. Take the time to figure out things tha need to be figured, and the story will open up in ways you never expected.
However, if you're like my stupid head self, I would recommend ignoring my advice, because invariably, stupid head self will rear up, and in the fear of having to actually commit to one genre, do something absolutely stupid like have a couple make love in the middle of a meadow when you'd been thinking they might be inspirational.
Oops
However, in the interest of being positive, let's think that this is the nudge I needed to decide to stick with my original game plan of Harlequin Romance. At least there I can say those three dreaded words, "they made love."
Amazing how three little words can change a person's direction, even if you still aren't sure that's the direction you want.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Monday: Goodbye Atlanta-Don't call me Sweetie
We woke up, finished packing, and went to breakfast. Then Dana had to leave, so we hugged, and I was on my own. I took a little nap, gathered my stuff, and checked out. I ran into Wayne in the lobby, so we chatted a bit, and then he had to go, too. After Wayne left, I wrote a bit more, and then packed up to head to the airport. Ran into Ola at the Concierge, so we traveled to the airport together. It was fitting-we came and left together, and never planned it.
In the airport, I got a book read, then it was time to board. I will just say that we had the world’s worst flight attendants. You have to understand, I’ve been flying since I was a little kid-at least 25 years-thanks to having divorced parents living on opposite sides of the country. So when I got a lecture on seat belt usage because *gasp* I had the nerve to unbuckle just long enough to turn off the air so I could feel my arms again, I was slightly annoyed.
However, the part which has earned this idiotic woman a death role in my next book is that she had to spend the entire flight speaking to me in a condescending manner and calling me, “Sweetie.” Just because you call me Sweetie doesn’t make you any less rude. In fact, it just annoys me more. I hate hate hate hate hate it when people think they can temper nastiness with adding an endearment. It does not work. Call a spade a spade, and don’t add to my dislike of you by being fake.
I could list all of the rude, condescending things this woman did, but frankly, she’s not worth wasting my time on. She’s dead now anyway. ;) She did go overboard on the whole safety thing, and I don’t think I’ve ever dealt with someone so intent on following the rules. My seatmate and I were clearly trying to put our laptops away (which we began as soon as the captain made his announcement), and she made a point of coming up to us and lecturing us about safety and how it was supposed to be stowed. Yes, we know. If you’d stop yapping at us, we’d have it finished. But, because the poor guy next to me was having trouble getting it done, she decided to make an announcement, singling him out, which was just slightly over the top.
We finally landed, and I finally got to see my honey and my kiddos. Even though I didn’t miss them in all the activity, I was sure glad to be back with them. I absolutely love being a writer, I absolutely love my job, but I really really love being a wife and mother.
In the airport, I got a book read, then it was time to board. I will just say that we had the world’s worst flight attendants. You have to understand, I’ve been flying since I was a little kid-at least 25 years-thanks to having divorced parents living on opposite sides of the country. So when I got a lecture on seat belt usage because *gasp* I had the nerve to unbuckle just long enough to turn off the air so I could feel my arms again, I was slightly annoyed.
However, the part which has earned this idiotic woman a death role in my next book is that she had to spend the entire flight speaking to me in a condescending manner and calling me, “Sweetie.” Just because you call me Sweetie doesn’t make you any less rude. In fact, it just annoys me more. I hate hate hate hate hate it when people think they can temper nastiness with adding an endearment. It does not work. Call a spade a spade, and don’t add to my dislike of you by being fake.
I could list all of the rude, condescending things this woman did, but frankly, she’s not worth wasting my time on. She’s dead now anyway. ;) She did go overboard on the whole safety thing, and I don’t think I’ve ever dealt with someone so intent on following the rules. My seatmate and I were clearly trying to put our laptops away (which we began as soon as the captain made his announcement), and she made a point of coming up to us and lecturing us about safety and how it was supposed to be stowed. Yes, we know. If you’d stop yapping at us, we’d have it finished. But, because the poor guy next to me was having trouble getting it done, she decided to make an announcement, singling him out, which was just slightly over the top.
We finally landed, and I finally got to see my honey and my kiddos. Even though I didn’t miss them in all the activity, I was sure glad to be back with them. I absolutely love being a writer, I absolutely love my job, but I really really love being a wife and mother.
Sunday: Goodbye to my friends
Pretty much everyone left Sunday-so it was just Dana and I, and a few stragglers. We spent the morning organizing stuff and getting our bags mostly packed. Then we went to drop our books to get shipped. After that, we went to the Margaret Mitchell house to learn about the genius behind Gone with the Wind. I was slightly disappointed there wasn’t more stuff, but we still learned a lot, and I got a really cool story idea.
We returned to the hotel, got in our bathing suits, grabbed our writing gear, and hit the pool to do some work. One thing I did get out of my pitch was some great advice (combined with amazing advice from Joanne Rock, who has a similar writing process to mine), so I was eager to start working on/adding to the book I pitched. I don’t think I need a subplot-I’ve got some character development to work on.
We sat in the pool and brainstormed with a couple of authors we ran into. It was a lot of fun, and I really got a good jumpstart. I ended up writing 8 pages.
When my laptop gave me the “your battery is going to die” warning, we packed up and headed to the room. We decided to have a girls night in, order pizza, and watch movies. So we did. I wrote a couple more pages, and stayed up way too late, because there were some good movies on.
We returned to the hotel, got in our bathing suits, grabbed our writing gear, and hit the pool to do some work. One thing I did get out of my pitch was some great advice (combined with amazing advice from Joanne Rock, who has a similar writing process to mine), so I was eager to start working on/adding to the book I pitched. I don’t think I need a subplot-I’ve got some character development to work on.
We sat in the pool and brainstormed with a couple of authors we ran into. It was a lot of fun, and I really got a good jumpstart. I ended up writing 8 pages.
When my laptop gave me the “your battery is going to die” warning, we packed up and headed to the room. We decided to have a girls night in, order pizza, and watch movies. So we did. I wrote a couple more pages, and stayed up way too late, because there were some good movies on.
Saturday: My Steam is Gone
I slept in until 8 on Saturday. Got my pitch ready, and hung out until it was time to do it at ten. Frankly, it was all a blur, and a bit on the odd side. I didn’t know it then, but it was the beginning of the end for me. I got through the pitch, I’m not entirely certain I got a request, but Dana says it was, so I guess it was. LOL. My mind was in such a fog. I popped into the Inspirational Spotlight, which was good, and then hit some more signings.
After that, we went to the luncheon, and I kept fogging out, although I did FINALLY get to see my beloved Cathie Linz, who is one of the sweetest women you’ll ever meet. I was so funked out that we left, and I went to check boards and hang out. We hit a couple more signings, and then my PA and I went to the world of Coca Cola, and it was amazing. They had a place to try coke from all around the world, and we decided that we rather liked all of it, particularly the New Guinea one, which has passion fruit in it. YUM!
We walked through the underground and then took the subway back. I felt a headache coming on, but assumed it was the heat and a need to eat. Got to the room, where Dana and Jo were eating room service (the rats), so my PA and I went to the sports bar and got dinner. They were so disorganized. They ended up losing our check, so we didn’t have to pay. We got back to our room, and I just felt funny. I tried to get ready, but my head really hurt, and I started losing my mental acuity. Yep, it was a migraine. Had I realized it when I felt odd at the pitch, I’d have been able to take some meds and feel better, but I just thought I was tired. D’OH!
I ended up missing the RITAs. I scared poor Dana, who thought I was having a stroke, because I couldn’t put a sentence together. Nope, just a migraine. I rested, took lots of drugs, and then decided to get dressed and at least make an appearance at the after party. My PA followed me around and helped me, so I was able to say goodbye to folks. I tried doing an after party trip to the bar, but I started fogging out again, so we went back to the room. I think we chatted a bit, but I don’t remember.
After that, we went to the luncheon, and I kept fogging out, although I did FINALLY get to see my beloved Cathie Linz, who is one of the sweetest women you’ll ever meet. I was so funked out that we left, and I went to check boards and hang out. We hit a couple more signings, and then my PA and I went to the world of Coca Cola, and it was amazing. They had a place to try coke from all around the world, and we decided that we rather liked all of it, particularly the New Guinea one, which has passion fruit in it. YUM!
We walked through the underground and then took the subway back. I felt a headache coming on, but assumed it was the heat and a need to eat. Got to the room, where Dana and Jo were eating room service (the rats), so my PA and I went to the sports bar and got dinner. They were so disorganized. They ended up losing our check, so we didn’t have to pay. We got back to our room, and I just felt funny. I tried to get ready, but my head really hurt, and I started losing my mental acuity. Yep, it was a migraine. Had I realized it when I felt odd at the pitch, I’d have been able to take some meds and feel better, but I just thought I was tired. D’OH!
I ended up missing the RITAs. I scared poor Dana, who thought I was having a stroke, because I couldn’t put a sentence together. Nope, just a migraine. I rested, took lots of drugs, and then decided to get dressed and at least make an appearance at the after party. My PA followed me around and helped me, so I was able to say goodbye to folks. I tried doing an after party trip to the bar, but I started fogging out again, so we went back to the room. I think we chatted a bit, but I don’t remember.
Friday: We have a reputation to uphold
Friday I actually slept in until like 9. Which really, is not so late, considering it was 7 my time, and I’d been going to bed at my usual bedtime-my time. People who get up this early regularly have to be on something. Thought about the Harlequin Spotlight, which is where I was supposed to be, but I wasn’t feeling well, and frankly, there’s something people need to know about me and conference. I am exhausted. I know, everyone thinks I’m all bubbly and full of energy. It’s a front. The second I’m forced to sit still, I fall asleep. I was also having mega cramps, and the only way for me to deal with that is to either keep moving or take drugs, knock myself out, and sleep. I chose to keep moving.
So, I decided to introduce Joanne to one of the best parts of conference. Free books. We went to signings. The good thing about that is that I get to keep moving. Plus, I did mention free books, right? Mother ship, I commune with thee. I was also good here, though, only getting the books I really needed, and if I thought I might have it, or didn’t know the author, I passed. I only ended up with half of the books I did last year.
The crew and I (minus our PA, who actually had business of her own-the nerve!) went to lunch at Gibney’s Pub, and for the first time, I had Shepherd’s Pie. Yummy stuff. Another rule about when I travel-it’s all about the food. I go to places I wouldn’t ordinarily see or eat at and always try to eat something regional. Definitely the grits of the day before qualify there.
After lunch, it was more signings, more socializing, more promotion of the site. My PA says I’m very good at what I do-and I didn’t even pay her to say it. Tee Hee.
Went to the Blaze anniversary party, which was a lot of fun, and oh MY! The cake was delicious.
Then, the hosty crew and our PA met for dinner. Mine was recommended to me by one of our author friends known for her good taste in food, but I have to say I was less than enthralled with it. I ate it, though, because I was hungry. Left room for the dessert extravaganza at the Harlequin party.
Took a bath, read part of a book, and then got ready for the party at the Ritz. Fun, fun, fun. We took a cab, even though it was only a couple of blocks. The party was nice, did the usual dancing until our feet hurt so much we thought we were going to die. It’s funny, the first songs they play are always the same. But fun, so who cares?
As I informed Joanne in the elevator to meet up with folks, we have a reputation to uphold. The Steeple Hill and eHarlequin folk are known for being the most fun, hands down. We’re the first on the dance floor, and the last to leave. That’s just how it is. While we had a couple of gimpys with us (Dee and Jeanette), I am pleased to say that we did our part to uphold our reputation. The party was supposed to end at Midnight, and they finally kicked us out at 1. We did walk home, but there was a whole pack of us (around 20), and I ended up plotting a rather cool continuity series with a few authors. We decided it should go across all lines. It would be totally fun.
We were all hyped up from the party, so we tried to see who was in the hotel bar, but by the time we got there, they were kicking everyone out. Party poopers. And for those of you who don’t go, I should point out that it’s not about the drinking. Yes, some folks go and get drunk, but most of us go to chat and have a good time. Anyway, since there was no action to be found, the crew and I went to bed.
So, I decided to introduce Joanne to one of the best parts of conference. Free books. We went to signings. The good thing about that is that I get to keep moving. Plus, I did mention free books, right? Mother ship, I commune with thee. I was also good here, though, only getting the books I really needed, and if I thought I might have it, or didn’t know the author, I passed. I only ended up with half of the books I did last year.
The crew and I (minus our PA, who actually had business of her own-the nerve!) went to lunch at Gibney’s Pub, and for the first time, I had Shepherd’s Pie. Yummy stuff. Another rule about when I travel-it’s all about the food. I go to places I wouldn’t ordinarily see or eat at and always try to eat something regional. Definitely the grits of the day before qualify there.
After lunch, it was more signings, more socializing, more promotion of the site. My PA says I’m very good at what I do-and I didn’t even pay her to say it. Tee Hee.
Went to the Blaze anniversary party, which was a lot of fun, and oh MY! The cake was delicious.
Then, the hosty crew and our PA met for dinner. Mine was recommended to me by one of our author friends known for her good taste in food, but I have to say I was less than enthralled with it. I ate it, though, because I was hungry. Left room for the dessert extravaganza at the Harlequin party.
Took a bath, read part of a book, and then got ready for the party at the Ritz. Fun, fun, fun. We took a cab, even though it was only a couple of blocks. The party was nice, did the usual dancing until our feet hurt so much we thought we were going to die. It’s funny, the first songs they play are always the same. But fun, so who cares?
As I informed Joanne in the elevator to meet up with folks, we have a reputation to uphold. The Steeple Hill and eHarlequin folk are known for being the most fun, hands down. We’re the first on the dance floor, and the last to leave. That’s just how it is. While we had a couple of gimpys with us (Dee and Jeanette), I am pleased to say that we did our part to uphold our reputation. The party was supposed to end at Midnight, and they finally kicked us out at 1. We did walk home, but there was a whole pack of us (around 20), and I ended up plotting a rather cool continuity series with a few authors. We decided it should go across all lines. It would be totally fun.
We were all hyped up from the party, so we tried to see who was in the hotel bar, but by the time we got there, they were kicking everyone out. Party poopers. And for those of you who don’t go, I should point out that it’s not about the drinking. Yes, some folks go and get drunk, but most of us go to chat and have a good time. Anyway, since there was no action to be found, the crew and I went to bed.
Thursday: Our new Personal Assistant
What can I say about Thursday? Had to wake up way too early, because genius self that I am, I scheduled a breakfast with the Steeple Hill crew. So, at seven in the morning, I was up and at ‘em, meeting Brenda Coulter, Abby Gaines, Margaret Daley, Debbieleen, and Camy Tang. (Dana was with me too) Anyway, had a lovely breakfast, then I went to the Pro Retreat, which was good, except I was so tired, all I heard was, “blah blah blah”. I did get my Pro booklet, so that was a good thing. I ended up going back to the room, and we did something, but I don’t remember what. OH! The American signing. Then, we got ready for the eHQ lunch. That was way cool, at a really nice restaurant. One of the cabs got lost, but since I wasn’t on it, it’s not my tale to tell. Joannneee…
Lunch was delicious. I had shrimp and grits. I didn’t know if I’d like it, since I always thought grits was breakfast food, but um, no. It was amazing. It was like eating garlic mashed potatoes, only with more texture. YUM! Sadly, due to the taxi mix up, some of our guests had to leave early, but we still had fun. Let’s see if I remember who was there: Jayne, Jeanette, Wayne, Tanya, Me, Sapphire, Julie Cohen, Margaret Daley, Dana, Holly Jacobs, Jennifer LaBreque, Gail Dayton, Marta Perry, Julie Miller, Beth Cornelison, Bronwyn Jameson, and a couple others, I just don’t remember who. Sorry! The memory is not what it used to be.
After lunch, I went to have a little rest in the room, Ang and Jo were there and we chatted for a bit. Well, while I was chatting, I literally dozed off. Eeek! Anyway, Angela saw me dozing, kicked Jo off the bed, and covered me with a blanket. She also ran errands for us in the morning, so we dubbed her our personal assistant. And she’s a very good one at that. So hereafter, any references to our PA, we’re talking about Angela.
Then, I stopped by the bar to find folks to chat with, ended up chatting with a few of our bigwig types, then went to the Everlasting cocktail party. Everlasting is a new line they’re launching, so I went and chatted with the authors, drummed up business for the boards, even found a few folks who needed the scoop on what we do. I love educating people about my job. I also got to meet the editor I was going to be pitching to, and she gave me some tips. She’s a very nice woman. I have to say, because I know how many folks are intimidated by editors, that every one I’ve met has just been absolutely a dream. Seriously. They’re all very nice, very down to earth people. Don’t be afraid of them, because they really do want to help people succeed.
After that was the Steeple Hill Meet and Greet, where I got to connect with all of our author and a couple of our editors. Very fun. Got to hear the latest scoop, and of course, remind folks that I’m here. Ran by the Moonlight Madness, didn’t find what I was looking for (KOD Cookbook), and then up to my room to change for the PJ party.
Now I must say that our party is THE social event of the conference, and we have a super fun time. This year, we gave out fun pillows, although I’m going to rant here, because I’m STILL irritated. It amazed me at how greedy some folks were over a stupid pillow. I’d set aside a few in my bag for our late coming authors, and when I went to get them to hand out, people had TAKEN them OUT of my bag. So, if you went to the party, didn’t get a pillow, and wanted one, I am sorry. I tried to save some. I’m coming up with a new plan for next year. That aside, if you really did like them, and really did want one, you can get one in our bonus bucks catalog. AND, if you really were there, and email me, I’ll send you some of my bonus bucks to get one, since I collect the things but never seem to spend them.
Anywhoo, we had a really wonderful time, and hung out afterward to chat. No, not going to list who all was there, because I KNOW I’ll forget someone. We had a bigger room than usual, and it was STILL packed. Check out my pictures and you’ll get to see at least some of them. After the party, we actually *gasp* went to bed.
Lunch was delicious. I had shrimp and grits. I didn’t know if I’d like it, since I always thought grits was breakfast food, but um, no. It was amazing. It was like eating garlic mashed potatoes, only with more texture. YUM! Sadly, due to the taxi mix up, some of our guests had to leave early, but we still had fun. Let’s see if I remember who was there: Jayne, Jeanette, Wayne, Tanya, Me, Sapphire, Julie Cohen, Margaret Daley, Dana, Holly Jacobs, Jennifer LaBreque, Gail Dayton, Marta Perry, Julie Miller, Beth Cornelison, Bronwyn Jameson, and a couple others, I just don’t remember who. Sorry! The memory is not what it used to be.
After lunch, I went to have a little rest in the room, Ang and Jo were there and we chatted for a bit. Well, while I was chatting, I literally dozed off. Eeek! Anyway, Angela saw me dozing, kicked Jo off the bed, and covered me with a blanket. She also ran errands for us in the morning, so we dubbed her our personal assistant. And she’s a very good one at that. So hereafter, any references to our PA, we’re talking about Angela.
Then, I stopped by the bar to find folks to chat with, ended up chatting with a few of our bigwig types, then went to the Everlasting cocktail party. Everlasting is a new line they’re launching, so I went and chatted with the authors, drummed up business for the boards, even found a few folks who needed the scoop on what we do. I love educating people about my job. I also got to meet the editor I was going to be pitching to, and she gave me some tips. She’s a very nice woman. I have to say, because I know how many folks are intimidated by editors, that every one I’ve met has just been absolutely a dream. Seriously. They’re all very nice, very down to earth people. Don’t be afraid of them, because they really do want to help people succeed.
After that was the Steeple Hill Meet and Greet, where I got to connect with all of our author and a couple of our editors. Very fun. Got to hear the latest scoop, and of course, remind folks that I’m here. Ran by the Moonlight Madness, didn’t find what I was looking for (KOD Cookbook), and then up to my room to change for the PJ party.
Now I must say that our party is THE social event of the conference, and we have a super fun time. This year, we gave out fun pillows, although I’m going to rant here, because I’m STILL irritated. It amazed me at how greedy some folks were over a stupid pillow. I’d set aside a few in my bag for our late coming authors, and when I went to get them to hand out, people had TAKEN them OUT of my bag. So, if you went to the party, didn’t get a pillow, and wanted one, I am sorry. I tried to save some. I’m coming up with a new plan for next year. That aside, if you really did like them, and really did want one, you can get one in our bonus bucks catalog. AND, if you really were there, and email me, I’ll send you some of my bonus bucks to get one, since I collect the things but never seem to spend them.
Anywhoo, we had a really wonderful time, and hung out afterward to chat. No, not going to list who all was there, because I KNOW I’ll forget someone. We had a bigger room than usual, and it was STILL packed. Check out my pictures and you’ll get to see at least some of them. After the party, we actually *gasp* went to bed.
Wednesday: It Begins
You would think I would know by now NOT to schedule early morning breakfasts. But I did-for both Wednesday and Thursday. Wednesday was at IKEA. I’d never been, but I’d heard of it, and when my buddies C.J. Lyons and Staci Wallace emailed me to see if we could do IKEA, I said, sure. Laura also wanted to go when I mentioned I was going, so we met up in the lobby. The only trouble-I’d never met C.J. (Staci was meeting us there), so I really had no idea what she looked like, and people never look like their website pics. Finally, we found her-got in the car, and headed off. We got there shortly before opening, and wow… tons of people were already eager to get in. We got there, had breakfast (yummy stuff, only 99 cents), then hit the store.
Um… what to say… they had tons of way cool stuff. I seriously could have bought an entire houseful, it was so cool. I did find some good buys, picked up a few trinkets, and when it came time to take a group shot, realized the memory card on my camera was shot. Thankfully someone (Laura, maybe? Please?) had a camera and took one of us. Which was good, because other than passing C.J. in the hallway, I never saw them again.
Got back to the hotel, had every intention of taking a nap, but ended up checking the boards (see, I DO work when out of town), and then I needed to get a new memory card, so Dana and I headed out for the mall. Dana needed candy to hand out at the lit signing, so we hit the candy store, I bought my girlies gifts. Then we went to the camera store, I got my memory card, and my phone rang. It was Sapphire! Aka our other roomie and her friend.
We headed back to the hotel, got the girls checked in, and headed to the room. Sapphire (aka Joanne) is another host, and her friend Angela was there for the ride. I knew Jo, but I’d never met Angela before. Angela is a hoot. We had a ton of fun. Truly, if you’re going to stick four women in a hotel room together, the four of us could not have been a better match.
Then it was off to our hosty dinner, where we met up with Jayne, Jeanette (one of the bookstore people), Dee, and Tanya. My meal sounded yummy, but it was rather spicy, so I didn’t end up eating much of it.
Afterwards, we went to the booksigning. Now, some of you know how we refer to Barnes and Noble as my mothership. However, let me just say that um, no. It is not even close to the blissful high I get being in a room with five hundred authors signing books. *satisfied sigh* But, because I’m broke and trying to be a good girl, I only spent about $75. World record for me, since I always spend about twice that. I’m not even going to attempt to list everyone I saw at the lit signing, because were too many. I think I stopped every two feet for a hug.
After, I met up with my crew (Dana, Jo, and Ang), chatted a bit, met up with Latesha from the boards, and she and I went to a gathering Jane Porter was having with folks from her list at Trader Vic’s. Again, had a very nice time, got to chat with folks. Had my first Mai Tai. Actually, it was only a couple of sips, because it was so strong, I thought I was going to die. That dinner was also very spicy, but I did eat most of it, because once the spice wore off, it was really tasty. After dinner, I went up to hang out with Catherine Mann, Joanne Rock, and Dianna Love Snell. The crew called and joined us, which was fun. Cathy and Joanne are probably two of my favorite people, so I was sad I didn’t get to spend more time with them.
Went back to our room, tried to go to bed, but sadly, it was like being at a slumber party, we up way too late giggling over silly stuff.
Um… what to say… they had tons of way cool stuff. I seriously could have bought an entire houseful, it was so cool. I did find some good buys, picked up a few trinkets, and when it came time to take a group shot, realized the memory card on my camera was shot. Thankfully someone (Laura, maybe? Please?) had a camera and took one of us. Which was good, because other than passing C.J. in the hallway, I never saw them again.
Got back to the hotel, had every intention of taking a nap, but ended up checking the boards (see, I DO work when out of town), and then I needed to get a new memory card, so Dana and I headed out for the mall. Dana needed candy to hand out at the lit signing, so we hit the candy store, I bought my girlies gifts. Then we went to the camera store, I got my memory card, and my phone rang. It was Sapphire! Aka our other roomie and her friend.
We headed back to the hotel, got the girls checked in, and headed to the room. Sapphire (aka Joanne) is another host, and her friend Angela was there for the ride. I knew Jo, but I’d never met Angela before. Angela is a hoot. We had a ton of fun. Truly, if you’re going to stick four women in a hotel room together, the four of us could not have been a better match.
Then it was off to our hosty dinner, where we met up with Jayne, Jeanette (one of the bookstore people), Dee, and Tanya. My meal sounded yummy, but it was rather spicy, so I didn’t end up eating much of it.
Afterwards, we went to the booksigning. Now, some of you know how we refer to Barnes and Noble as my mothership. However, let me just say that um, no. It is not even close to the blissful high I get being in a room with five hundred authors signing books. *satisfied sigh* But, because I’m broke and trying to be a good girl, I only spent about $75. World record for me, since I always spend about twice that. I’m not even going to attempt to list everyone I saw at the lit signing, because were too many. I think I stopped every two feet for a hug.
After, I met up with my crew (Dana, Jo, and Ang), chatted a bit, met up with Latesha from the boards, and she and I went to a gathering Jane Porter was having with folks from her list at Trader Vic’s. Again, had a very nice time, got to chat with folks. Had my first Mai Tai. Actually, it was only a couple of sips, because it was so strong, I thought I was going to die. That dinner was also very spicy, but I did eat most of it, because once the spice wore off, it was really tasty. After dinner, I went up to hang out with Catherine Mann, Joanne Rock, and Dianna Love Snell. The crew called and joined us, which was fun. Cathy and Joanne are probably two of my favorite people, so I was sad I didn’t get to spend more time with them.
Went back to our room, tried to go to bed, but sadly, it was like being at a slumber party, we up way too late giggling over silly stuff.
Tuesday in Atlanta: The Arrival
When I was a kid, visiting my dad necessitated a stopover in Atlanta to change planes. My memory of the airport was that it was a lot of fun. Looking back, I think it must’ve been the fact that they had a train and we did not. I’d like to stick my neck out and say that Atlanta is the most horrific airport in the universe to try to find your way around. While my personal assistant (more on that later) would argue O’Hare, I’m sticking with Atlanta, and O’Hare as a close second.
I got in to Atlanta with a fierce need to empty my bladder. I was in a window seat, and the people next to me slept the whole time, so I didn’t get to use the one on the plane. Got off the plane, no bathroom to be found. Walked down the twenty-mile long hallway, saw one bathroom with an out of order sign. Ugh. Got on “fun” train that was so crowded that not having a handhold was an okay thing-the people squished next to me held me up. After being told three different baggage carousels, I finally found the one with my luggage. Apparently, it’s too expensive for them to invest in a “FRONTIER” sign.
I spotted a restroom, so I went to use it before my luggage came out. Used the restroom, and twenty minutes later, my luggage arrived. I will NEVER again gripe about DIA. On the way back from the restroom, I spotted my beloved Anna DeStefano, hugged for a bit, and then went back to the great luggage search. Luggage came in, and went off in search of my fellow host and author, Wayne Jordan. Now, in order to fully appreciate this story, you need to realize that I’ve met him once-in Reno. My recollection of him is that he’s a good-looking black man. I started looking around for a good-looking black man. Um, we’re in Atlanta. They’re ALL good-looking black men. But hey, I have his flight info, so I’ll just go to his baggage claim. After traveling the entire airport, and having a number of good looking black men thinking that I’m stalking them, I find out that to get to THAT baggage claim, I need to go down a long hallway, down a floor, and then down another long hallway. I get there, and there are no good looking black men to be found. Just my luck. However, my phone rings, and it’s Michelle, Wayne’s friend we’re also meeting, whom I’ve never met. She and Wayne are at the taxi stand. Great. I trek all the way back to the taxi stand (down the long hallway, up the elevator, down another long hallway, you get the picture). I look around. Every good looking black man appears to be with folks who definitely aren’t our people. I call Michelle to see where she’s at. She tells me the taxi stand. I’m at the taxi stand. I start looking around. We realize that we’re standing next to each other. Wayne joins us and we realize that Wayne and I passed each other twice. *shaking head* Also at the taxi stand is another good friend, Olivia Gates, aka Ola. She’s from Egypt. So we all grab a cab together and head to the hotel. I also realize why the city is called HotLanta-I’m not the sweating type, however, my shirt was soaked by the time we got to the hotel.
At the hotel, my roomie, Dana Corbit, is waiting for me. We check in, and go up to the room, which she’s already gotten organized for us because we’re expecting two new roomies the next day. We unpack and decide to find dinner and explore. Dinner was at Benihana, which I love. We shared our table with a lovely couple we thought were on a date. After talking with them, however, we found out they were coaches on a recruiting trip. Nice folks. Had a good chat, and Dana gave them some promo items. We get back to the hotel and decide to walk around, check out who’s there, and all that.
Go up to the first bar, which was tiny. Ran into some old friends, chatted, hugs all around. I’d list them, but I can’t remember who all was there, and besides, we were good, so there’s no story to tell. Oh! Wait! I do have one thing… our hotel was enormous, and the elevator was a glass elevator, so even if you were on the 42nd floor, you went all the way up in a glass elevator. So… our buddy Laura Marie Altom had a key to go up there, and she took us up to catch the view. WOW!
Then all the party poopers went to bed, and Dana and I decided to head to the other bar to see folks. And who should we run into, but our coach friend. He immediately recognizes us and says he googled us, and even told Dana she didn’t look like her picture. (And in the spirit of paying back the Google, his name is Mike Neighbors.) Anyway, we chatted, he picked our brains on romance, we had fun horrifying him by pointing out all the little old ladies who wrote erotica, and then we ran into another author. Sadly, I can’t say who this author is, because it was a rather embarrassing night for her and she would prefer we not speak of it. Basically, she was pretty drunk. We ended up escorting her to another bar a block away, because she wanted to go, and we were afraid for her being alone. All the “Atlanta is scary stories”-well, I can tell you why. The homeless people were SO aggressive, it was scary for the four of us. I was really glad Mike was with us, and I think he enjoyed playing knight in shining armor. We got to the bar, I was the only one who got carded *doing happy dance of joy*, and they promptly said that our friend couldn’t be there because she was too drunk. We made our way back through the throng of aggressive homeless people (seriously, it was scary-they kept grabbing at us) and returned to the hotel. Put our friend to bed, said goodbye to our knight, and went to bed ourselves. Thus endeth my first night in Atlanta.
I got in to Atlanta with a fierce need to empty my bladder. I was in a window seat, and the people next to me slept the whole time, so I didn’t get to use the one on the plane. Got off the plane, no bathroom to be found. Walked down the twenty-mile long hallway, saw one bathroom with an out of order sign. Ugh. Got on “fun” train that was so crowded that not having a handhold was an okay thing-the people squished next to me held me up. After being told three different baggage carousels, I finally found the one with my luggage. Apparently, it’s too expensive for them to invest in a “FRONTIER” sign.
I spotted a restroom, so I went to use it before my luggage came out. Used the restroom, and twenty minutes later, my luggage arrived. I will NEVER again gripe about DIA. On the way back from the restroom, I spotted my beloved Anna DeStefano, hugged for a bit, and then went back to the great luggage search. Luggage came in, and went off in search of my fellow host and author, Wayne Jordan. Now, in order to fully appreciate this story, you need to realize that I’ve met him once-in Reno. My recollection of him is that he’s a good-looking black man. I started looking around for a good-looking black man. Um, we’re in Atlanta. They’re ALL good-looking black men. But hey, I have his flight info, so I’ll just go to his baggage claim. After traveling the entire airport, and having a number of good looking black men thinking that I’m stalking them, I find out that to get to THAT baggage claim, I need to go down a long hallway, down a floor, and then down another long hallway. I get there, and there are no good looking black men to be found. Just my luck. However, my phone rings, and it’s Michelle, Wayne’s friend we’re also meeting, whom I’ve never met. She and Wayne are at the taxi stand. Great. I trek all the way back to the taxi stand (down the long hallway, up the elevator, down another long hallway, you get the picture). I look around. Every good looking black man appears to be with folks who definitely aren’t our people. I call Michelle to see where she’s at. She tells me the taxi stand. I’m at the taxi stand. I start looking around. We realize that we’re standing next to each other. Wayne joins us and we realize that Wayne and I passed each other twice. *shaking head* Also at the taxi stand is another good friend, Olivia Gates, aka Ola. She’s from Egypt. So we all grab a cab together and head to the hotel. I also realize why the city is called HotLanta-I’m not the sweating type, however, my shirt was soaked by the time we got to the hotel.
At the hotel, my roomie, Dana Corbit, is waiting for me. We check in, and go up to the room, which she’s already gotten organized for us because we’re expecting two new roomies the next day. We unpack and decide to find dinner and explore. Dinner was at Benihana, which I love. We shared our table with a lovely couple we thought were on a date. After talking with them, however, we found out they were coaches on a recruiting trip. Nice folks. Had a good chat, and Dana gave them some promo items. We get back to the hotel and decide to walk around, check out who’s there, and all that.
Go up to the first bar, which was tiny. Ran into some old friends, chatted, hugs all around. I’d list them, but I can’t remember who all was there, and besides, we were good, so there’s no story to tell. Oh! Wait! I do have one thing… our hotel was enormous, and the elevator was a glass elevator, so even if you were on the 42nd floor, you went all the way up in a glass elevator. So… our buddy Laura Marie Altom had a key to go up there, and she took us up to catch the view. WOW!
Then all the party poopers went to bed, and Dana and I decided to head to the other bar to see folks. And who should we run into, but our coach friend. He immediately recognizes us and says he googled us, and even told Dana she didn’t look like her picture. (And in the spirit of paying back the Google, his name is Mike Neighbors.) Anyway, we chatted, he picked our brains on romance, we had fun horrifying him by pointing out all the little old ladies who wrote erotica, and then we ran into another author. Sadly, I can’t say who this author is, because it was a rather embarrassing night for her and she would prefer we not speak of it. Basically, she was pretty drunk. We ended up escorting her to another bar a block away, because she wanted to go, and we were afraid for her being alone. All the “Atlanta is scary stories”-well, I can tell you why. The homeless people were SO aggressive, it was scary for the four of us. I was really glad Mike was with us, and I think he enjoyed playing knight in shining armor. We got to the bar, I was the only one who got carded *doing happy dance of joy*, and they promptly said that our friend couldn’t be there because she was too drunk. We made our way back through the throng of aggressive homeless people (seriously, it was scary-they kept grabbing at us) and returned to the hotel. Put our friend to bed, said goodbye to our knight, and went to bed ourselves. Thus endeth my first night in Atlanta.
Atlanta Recap
Despite my best efforts, I failed to blog during the Atlanta trip. What can I say, I was having a fabulous time. Sooo… we’ll go in a series of blog posts, and I’ll try to catch you all up on the highlights.
Also, you will be able to find photos here: Atlanta Pics
I do not have everything labeled yet, so you can either wait for it, or look now and figure out who it is on your own.
Also, you will be able to find photos here: Atlanta Pics
I do not have everything labeled yet, so you can either wait for it, or look now and figure out who it is on your own.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Murphy's law
I am seriously dealing with a tough case of it right now. And yet, the cool thing is that I definitely feel God's hand protecting us from it being worse. It's just really super irritating right now that just as I think things are on track, it gets ripped off. Do we need a reminder of my need for stability?
At the moment, we're on our annual summer retreat with friends, and they're off at a seminar I wanted to go to. However, I ended up with a really bad migraine, so I stayed at the condo, took my medicine, and slept. I woke up, and probably could have joined them, except that we only have one car, which they have, so I'd have had to call DH to pick me up, which he would not have minded, except that he'd have missed out on some of it, plus I'm not 100%, and since we're driving 12 hours to get home tomorrow, I probably need to rest so I don't get a rebound headache tomorrow. Still, it sucks, since we only see these guys every few months, and they're our best friends.
Anyway, the good part about being stuck here at the condo is we have wifi and cable. Which means I got to watch an old movie. Bringing up Baby with Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn. I adore this movie, it would make a really cool book if twisted into something modern. Plus, I am a total Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn fan.
And then, I'd just been thinking how I wished I had one of my yoga videos because I'm sure my headache is partially tension, partially stress, partially weather. And I thought if I could get some yoga in, it would help relieve things now, plus make life better on tomorrow's drive. Anyway, what did I find, but a yoga show on tv-apparently, there's a whole cable channel of just fitness programs. YAY! I only got half of it, but still, I feel much better. It'd almost be worth getting cable for that channel. :)
I'm beat, and I'm feeling the after effects of the headache now, so I think it'll be... huh... I completely forgot what I was going to say. I hate this. When I get headaches, I just totally lose my train of thought. Well, I do it anyway. But it's worse when I get heachaches.
Right then. Off to bed I go.
At the moment, we're on our annual summer retreat with friends, and they're off at a seminar I wanted to go to. However, I ended up with a really bad migraine, so I stayed at the condo, took my medicine, and slept. I woke up, and probably could have joined them, except that we only have one car, which they have, so I'd have had to call DH to pick me up, which he would not have minded, except that he'd have missed out on some of it, plus I'm not 100%, and since we're driving 12 hours to get home tomorrow, I probably need to rest so I don't get a rebound headache tomorrow. Still, it sucks, since we only see these guys every few months, and they're our best friends.
Anyway, the good part about being stuck here at the condo is we have wifi and cable. Which means I got to watch an old movie. Bringing up Baby with Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn. I adore this movie, it would make a really cool book if twisted into something modern. Plus, I am a total Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn fan.
And then, I'd just been thinking how I wished I had one of my yoga videos because I'm sure my headache is partially tension, partially stress, partially weather. And I thought if I could get some yoga in, it would help relieve things now, plus make life better on tomorrow's drive. Anyway, what did I find, but a yoga show on tv-apparently, there's a whole cable channel of just fitness programs. YAY! I only got half of it, but still, I feel much better. It'd almost be worth getting cable for that channel. :)
I'm beat, and I'm feeling the after effects of the headache now, so I think it'll be... huh... I completely forgot what I was going to say. I hate this. When I get headaches, I just totally lose my train of thought. Well, I do it anyway. But it's worse when I get heachaches.
Right then. Off to bed I go.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Because I can't blog about what I'm really annoyed with
Dumb Bumper Stickers.
Since we’re on the blowing up theme, I thought I’d share one of my favorite gripes. Bumper stickers that are pointless and make no sense.
Today’s bumper sticker: Love your children. Stop bombing theirs.
And this means what?
First off, is anyone who is actually bombing someone else’s children going to view this bumper sticker?
I thought not.
Second, if someone who is actually bombing someone else’s children actually views this sticker, will it change their mind? Wow. Two sentences. What a convincing argument. And to think, I don’t even know whose children are being bombed. Yes, I do believe that if I were bombing someone else’s children, I would stop. So that I could bomb yours. Because you’ve irritated me to the point of insanity and I can’t stop thinking about stupid bumper stickers.
However, because I am now obsessing about bumper stickers, I thought I’d point out some other idiotic things people stick on their cars.
Gore for President. Um, he lost. Like a long time ago. Although I do have a really funny observation about that-is it just in Colorado, or have any of you noticed that anyone driving a beat up Subaru has one of these bumper stickers? I have never seen a Bush bumper sticker on a Subaru. Is this some weird political conspiracy, that all Subaru drivers must be democrats?
Just as annoying, however, are the Bush for President bumper stickers. He won. So what? Are you trying to make the poor Subaru drivers feel bad? They don’t need your help, okay? They drive Subarus, for crying out loud. (And lest you think I’ve got something against Subarus, I’ll have you know that my best friend drives one.)
And then, there are the bumper stickers of people peeing on the competitor car brand. And this is funny, because? What I actually think is funnier is that the people driving those cars fit into one of two categories: the car is a rustbucket, and therefore, they need something like urine on someone else’s car to feel morally superior, OR the car is one of those super hopped up monsters with car payments that are so big they have to still live with their mom because they can’t afford a house. Yeah buddy. You guys are cool.
Finally, my rant would not be complete without discussing the “Jesus fish” phenomenon. There’s your basic Jesus fish, which, okay, fine. If you really need to let others know you have some cool symbol of Christianity, then go for it. But when you act like a jerk in traffic, you pretty much negate the whole message. Then of course, you have the smarty butts who think it’s funny to have some sort of anti Jesus fish. Again, why? To show how little respect you have for others. Wow. That certainly shows how you’ve evolved. To follow that up, you have the anti anti Jesus fish to show how Jesus is bigger than anything the anti Jesus fish can dish out. Nice. Again, what have you proven, exactly? Who has the biggest fish? Can you see it, in heaven, when the folks arrive? “Dude, how’d you get saved?” “Man, I saw a great big fish on the backside of some guy’s car.” I’m not discounting God here, because God can use just about anything to bring about salvation. I’m just not so sure that’s the point of driving around with a big fish.
People, this is what I think about when I’m driving and the muse is not speaking to me. I either think about whatever story is bugging me, or some weird obsession over something that irritates me.
Since we’re on the blowing up theme, I thought I’d share one of my favorite gripes. Bumper stickers that are pointless and make no sense.
Today’s bumper sticker: Love your children. Stop bombing theirs.
And this means what?
First off, is anyone who is actually bombing someone else’s children going to view this bumper sticker?
I thought not.
Second, if someone who is actually bombing someone else’s children actually views this sticker, will it change their mind? Wow. Two sentences. What a convincing argument. And to think, I don’t even know whose children are being bombed. Yes, I do believe that if I were bombing someone else’s children, I would stop. So that I could bomb yours. Because you’ve irritated me to the point of insanity and I can’t stop thinking about stupid bumper stickers.
However, because I am now obsessing about bumper stickers, I thought I’d point out some other idiotic things people stick on their cars.
Gore for President. Um, he lost. Like a long time ago. Although I do have a really funny observation about that-is it just in Colorado, or have any of you noticed that anyone driving a beat up Subaru has one of these bumper stickers? I have never seen a Bush bumper sticker on a Subaru. Is this some weird political conspiracy, that all Subaru drivers must be democrats?
Just as annoying, however, are the Bush for President bumper stickers. He won. So what? Are you trying to make the poor Subaru drivers feel bad? They don’t need your help, okay? They drive Subarus, for crying out loud. (And lest you think I’ve got something against Subarus, I’ll have you know that my best friend drives one.)
And then, there are the bumper stickers of people peeing on the competitor car brand. And this is funny, because? What I actually think is funnier is that the people driving those cars fit into one of two categories: the car is a rustbucket, and therefore, they need something like urine on someone else’s car to feel morally superior, OR the car is one of those super hopped up monsters with car payments that are so big they have to still live with their mom because they can’t afford a house. Yeah buddy. You guys are cool.
Finally, my rant would not be complete without discussing the “Jesus fish” phenomenon. There’s your basic Jesus fish, which, okay, fine. If you really need to let others know you have some cool symbol of Christianity, then go for it. But when you act like a jerk in traffic, you pretty much negate the whole message. Then of course, you have the smarty butts who think it’s funny to have some sort of anti Jesus fish. Again, why? To show how little respect you have for others. Wow. That certainly shows how you’ve evolved. To follow that up, you have the anti anti Jesus fish to show how Jesus is bigger than anything the anti Jesus fish can dish out. Nice. Again, what have you proven, exactly? Who has the biggest fish? Can you see it, in heaven, when the folks arrive? “Dude, how’d you get saved?” “Man, I saw a great big fish on the backside of some guy’s car.” I’m not discounting God here, because God can use just about anything to bring about salvation. I’m just not so sure that’s the point of driving around with a big fish.
People, this is what I think about when I’m driving and the muse is not speaking to me. I either think about whatever story is bugging me, or some weird obsession over something that irritates me.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Oh where is my subplot?
(To the tune of "Where is my hairbrush", the best veggie tale song on earth)
So I got a decent crit the other day, once again confirming what I already knew. Not about the chick lit. I still don't know what to do with that one, short of blowing it up. Do you think I could have some terrorists show up in the middle of it and still make it funny?
Picture with me...
"I just don't know what to do with my life."
"I know, it sucks."
KABOOM!!
"What was that?"
"Terrorists just blew up the entire western United States."
"Oh no! What do I do?"
"I don't know. Want to get jiggy?"
"I'm a good girl, I am."
"Well, we might as well get married then. We're going to need to rebuild the earth."
Doesn't that have the ring of "future bestseller"?
Yes, I know, the heat is getting to me.
So my other book... you know, the one I'm pitching in oh, a week? Well, first off, I got the "Hey, you should write Inspirational" comment. Sigh. Am I pitching this Inspirational? Of course not. I'm pitching to the same folks who think I have the right tone and voice, but haven't liked any of my stories. I'm close... and yet, if this is so inspirational, are they really going to want this one? Am I overthinking again?
It doesn't matter-I'm about 10-25K short on words. And so, the brilliant suggestion, which I agree with, because frankly, the main plot can't be elongated any more, is to bring in a subplot. I also have too much introspection. Me? Surely they jest. I should avenge myself by doing a book that's nothing but dialogue. Now that would be funny. NOT.
Can I think of a subplot that works with this story? No. Can I think of a subplot that mirrors my theme? No.
However, I have written three, count them, THREE different new beginnings to the story, because said critique also said I should start from HIS POV since it's his story, and frankly I agree. I originally DID start from his POV, but he sounded like a jerk, so I used her. So I'm back to his POV. Rather than sounding like a jerk, he sounds like a whiney woman.
Do you think it would get too trite if I continually used terrorist attacks as a device? For example, my current scene:
"Do you think you could set me up with a hot babe who doesn't want me for my money?"
"As long as you're not after my wife."
"Hey, look! It's a Hezbollah dude. He's got your wife."
Except if his wife is kidnapped by Hezbollah, he can't get her pregnant. Although... if she's already pregnant, they could kidnap her. But endangering unborn children isn't very sympathetic, is it? And okay, I admit, that having Hezbollah in the book just really isn't going to work with a hyper emotional story of having a miracle baby.
Do you see what I have to work with?
Let us not forget The Book, either. I started to work on it this afternoon, but decided I needed to dig into Scripture, and of course, that got me on a huge Bible study bunny trail, so I got nothing accomplished, other than my own personal journey/growth/whatever. I'm starting to get slightly bitter about this "You won't sell a book until you write this one" stuff. I'm TRYING already!! Okay, probably not as hard as I could be. I probably could be working a little harder on it, but truly, I have no idea what I'm doing. Yeah, that sounds really good to my future fans and would be editor who thinks I'm absolutely brilliant. Sadly, I'm not. That would be God. It's HIS book. Which is really the point, except that I'm being impatient.
So, until such time as God decides to say, "here's the next bit," I'm going to have to content myself with trying to find a subplot without going stark raving mad.
So I got a decent crit the other day, once again confirming what I already knew. Not about the chick lit. I still don't know what to do with that one, short of blowing it up. Do you think I could have some terrorists show up in the middle of it and still make it funny?
Picture with me...
"I just don't know what to do with my life."
"I know, it sucks."
KABOOM!!
"What was that?"
"Terrorists just blew up the entire western United States."
"Oh no! What do I do?"
"I don't know. Want to get jiggy?"
"I'm a good girl, I am."
"Well, we might as well get married then. We're going to need to rebuild the earth."
Doesn't that have the ring of "future bestseller"?
Yes, I know, the heat is getting to me.
So my other book... you know, the one I'm pitching in oh, a week? Well, first off, I got the "Hey, you should write Inspirational" comment. Sigh. Am I pitching this Inspirational? Of course not. I'm pitching to the same folks who think I have the right tone and voice, but haven't liked any of my stories. I'm close... and yet, if this is so inspirational, are they really going to want this one? Am I overthinking again?
It doesn't matter-I'm about 10-25K short on words. And so, the brilliant suggestion, which I agree with, because frankly, the main plot can't be elongated any more, is to bring in a subplot. I also have too much introspection. Me? Surely they jest. I should avenge myself by doing a book that's nothing but dialogue. Now that would be funny. NOT.
Can I think of a subplot that works with this story? No. Can I think of a subplot that mirrors my theme? No.
However, I have written three, count them, THREE different new beginnings to the story, because said critique also said I should start from HIS POV since it's his story, and frankly I agree. I originally DID start from his POV, but he sounded like a jerk, so I used her. So I'm back to his POV. Rather than sounding like a jerk, he sounds like a whiney woman.
Do you think it would get too trite if I continually used terrorist attacks as a device? For example, my current scene:
"Do you think you could set me up with a hot babe who doesn't want me for my money?"
"As long as you're not after my wife."
"Hey, look! It's a Hezbollah dude. He's got your wife."
Except if his wife is kidnapped by Hezbollah, he can't get her pregnant. Although... if she's already pregnant, they could kidnap her. But endangering unborn children isn't very sympathetic, is it? And okay, I admit, that having Hezbollah in the book just really isn't going to work with a hyper emotional story of having a miracle baby.
Do you see what I have to work with?
Let us not forget The Book, either. I started to work on it this afternoon, but decided I needed to dig into Scripture, and of course, that got me on a huge Bible study bunny trail, so I got nothing accomplished, other than my own personal journey/growth/whatever. I'm starting to get slightly bitter about this "You won't sell a book until you write this one" stuff. I'm TRYING already!! Okay, probably not as hard as I could be. I probably could be working a little harder on it, but truly, I have no idea what I'm doing. Yeah, that sounds really good to my future fans and would be editor who thinks I'm absolutely brilliant. Sadly, I'm not. That would be God. It's HIS book. Which is really the point, except that I'm being impatient.
So, until such time as God decides to say, "here's the next bit," I'm going to have to content myself with trying to find a subplot without going stark raving mad.
Monday, July 17, 2006
I don't have a funny title tonight
It's still hot here.
But I have good news. My husband is now employed!! The really good news is that he explained to the project manager our situation, and the guy remembered him from when he worked for the company a while back. The guy likes him, likes the work he does, and didn't want to lose him, so he offered DH a better job, which includes a company vehicle. He'll be working at least through the end of the year, so another happy thing. In this industry, to have a job for six months is a good thing.
The next good thing is that I have childcare for RWA. Bay got into the day camp-one kid cancelled, so they had one spot. My friend is going to take Kay, and also Bay when they don't have camp. Her son goes to the camp with Bay, and they're best buds.
I've been trying to get my house cleaned, which is just not fun. Not only is it killer hot outside, but with no A/C, it's really bad inside. But we're also dealing with the demonic two year old. If I pick up one thing, she pulls out two. Today, I got the kitchen cleaned and the floor mopped. I started washing our bedding, and then I realized that running the dryer would be disastrous. Well, I can't line dry my stuff, because #1, I don't have a clothesline, and #2, I'm so allergic to pollen, that I get really sick from line dried clothes.
Went to the bank, dealt with finances, got depressed, got some ice cream and took the girls to a park where we could eat it in the shade. It was much cooler than our house.
In other news, the spider carcass is still in the middle of the floor. I've decided that I'm not going to vaccuum because I want the reminder to the other spiders to be reminded of my wrath.
It's still hot, I'm thinking of filling my bathtub with ice cubes and sleeping there...
But I have good news. My husband is now employed!! The really good news is that he explained to the project manager our situation, and the guy remembered him from when he worked for the company a while back. The guy likes him, likes the work he does, and didn't want to lose him, so he offered DH a better job, which includes a company vehicle. He'll be working at least through the end of the year, so another happy thing. In this industry, to have a job for six months is a good thing.
The next good thing is that I have childcare for RWA. Bay got into the day camp-one kid cancelled, so they had one spot. My friend is going to take Kay, and also Bay when they don't have camp. Her son goes to the camp with Bay, and they're best buds.
I've been trying to get my house cleaned, which is just not fun. Not only is it killer hot outside, but with no A/C, it's really bad inside. But we're also dealing with the demonic two year old. If I pick up one thing, she pulls out two. Today, I got the kitchen cleaned and the floor mopped. I started washing our bedding, and then I realized that running the dryer would be disastrous. Well, I can't line dry my stuff, because #1, I don't have a clothesline, and #2, I'm so allergic to pollen, that I get really sick from line dried clothes.
Went to the bank, dealt with finances, got depressed, got some ice cream and took the girls to a park where we could eat it in the shade. It was much cooler than our house.
In other news, the spider carcass is still in the middle of the floor. I've decided that I'm not going to vaccuum because I want the reminder to the other spiders to be reminded of my wrath.
It's still hot, I'm thinking of filling my bathtub with ice cubes and sleeping there...
Sunday, July 16, 2006
What was the spider thinking?
I had an unfortunate incident with a spider this evening. I might as well confess-I don't like the things. And sure, I will also admit to a slight fear of a creature that is small enough to squish with my bare hands. As if *I* was dumb enough to touch one.
Last night, as we cleared out a weed bed, we deprived several enormous, menacing eight legged monsters of their homes. I was afraid that they might think that an invitation to relocate to the interior of MY home, so my beloved man killed them with his bare hands. Yes, he is such a hero stud. There is a reason why he got lucky last night. The Man killed for me. Several horrible beasts are now dead and will threaten my family no more.
However, one of their relatives decided to visit me this evening, perhaps to seek vengeance for ordering the execution of his people and destroying their home. He crept across the floor, trying to be stealthy, but I saw him. I looked for a weapon, but all I could find was the rolling chair. Everything else would have required me to get close enough to touch the fiend. And so, I began to chase the spider with the rolling chair.
Oh, he thought he was so smart. He thought he was going to escape. He'd skitter one direction, I'd follow. He tried to hide under the laundry basket. I moved it. Up and down, left and right, we danced, until finally, the roller on the bottom of the chair made contact and crushed his little spider bones. I ran over him a couple of times, just to be certain he wouldn't rise again. His body remains, in the middle of the family room floor, a reminder to any who dare trespass into my sacred space.
I wonder what he was thinking, in those final moments, when he realized that he'd miscalculated and was about to meet his doom. At what point of impact did he feel the weight of my chair crushing his little body? Do you think he's in heaven? If so, will I see him there? Will I have to kill him again? Or will the Lord, in all His mercy, put the spider and I in different places so that neither of us will encounter the other? Or will we have both somehow evolved to the point of accepting each other?
Yes, this is where my mind goes in the middle of the night. I'm blaming the heat. If this hundred degree weather does not let up soon, I'm going to be killing more than spiders.
Last night, as we cleared out a weed bed, we deprived several enormous, menacing eight legged monsters of their homes. I was afraid that they might think that an invitation to relocate to the interior of MY home, so my beloved man killed them with his bare hands. Yes, he is such a hero stud. There is a reason why he got lucky last night. The Man killed for me. Several horrible beasts are now dead and will threaten my family no more.
However, one of their relatives decided to visit me this evening, perhaps to seek vengeance for ordering the execution of his people and destroying their home. He crept across the floor, trying to be stealthy, but I saw him. I looked for a weapon, but all I could find was the rolling chair. Everything else would have required me to get close enough to touch the fiend. And so, I began to chase the spider with the rolling chair.
Oh, he thought he was so smart. He thought he was going to escape. He'd skitter one direction, I'd follow. He tried to hide under the laundry basket. I moved it. Up and down, left and right, we danced, until finally, the roller on the bottom of the chair made contact and crushed his little spider bones. I ran over him a couple of times, just to be certain he wouldn't rise again. His body remains, in the middle of the family room floor, a reminder to any who dare trespass into my sacred space.
I wonder what he was thinking, in those final moments, when he realized that he'd miscalculated and was about to meet his doom. At what point of impact did he feel the weight of my chair crushing his little body? Do you think he's in heaven? If so, will I see him there? Will I have to kill him again? Or will the Lord, in all His mercy, put the spider and I in different places so that neither of us will encounter the other? Or will we have both somehow evolved to the point of accepting each other?
Yes, this is where my mind goes in the middle of the night. I'm blaming the heat. If this hundred degree weather does not let up soon, I'm going to be killing more than spiders.
There's a story idea in this...
I have GOT to write a book about this article: Woman asks 911 to send cutie pie deputy.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060714/ap_on_fe_st/911_love
In other news, just dealing with the post conference crash the messy house that goes along with it.
Do keep us in your prayers, as we've hit a few life snags. DH got a job Friday, but before you cheer, it's not at all a good situation, thanks to the stupid union and its idiotic policies. I wonder, are they helping the "brothers" or are they just helping the fat cats get fatter? Sorry, couldn't resist. Anyway, just keep it in your prayers, because if it goes through, it'll make our financial situation worse, not better.
The other thing, due to some unfortunate family events that I'm not allowed to talk about, I have no one to watch my kids while I'm in Atlanta. Currently scrambling for sitters now, and worst case scenario, DH will stay home and watch them, so I will still go, but it's a huge mess. No matter what we do, we're screwed, and it's all because of one selfish person who made a stupid mistake and rather than owning up to it and dealing with it like an adult, the entire family's life is now thrown into chaos. Yeah, still bitter. And no, for those of you who know my dramatics, it is not who you think. Which is fun, because this person can show up as a dead body in my next book and no one will be the wiser...
See, this is why being a writer is so fun. I have a problem, I can't do anything about it, but I can release my anger in a constructive way that won't get me thrown in jail. I love my life.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060714/ap_on_fe_st/911_love
In other news, just dealing with the post conference crash the messy house that goes along with it.
Do keep us in your prayers, as we've hit a few life snags. DH got a job Friday, but before you cheer, it's not at all a good situation, thanks to the stupid union and its idiotic policies. I wonder, are they helping the "brothers" or are they just helping the fat cats get fatter? Sorry, couldn't resist. Anyway, just keep it in your prayers, because if it goes through, it'll make our financial situation worse, not better.
The other thing, due to some unfortunate family events that I'm not allowed to talk about, I have no one to watch my kids while I'm in Atlanta. Currently scrambling for sitters now, and worst case scenario, DH will stay home and watch them, so I will still go, but it's a huge mess. No matter what we do, we're screwed, and it's all because of one selfish person who made a stupid mistake and rather than owning up to it and dealing with it like an adult, the entire family's life is now thrown into chaos. Yeah, still bitter. And no, for those of you who know my dramatics, it is not who you think. Which is fun, because this person can show up as a dead body in my next book and no one will be the wiser...
See, this is why being a writer is so fun. I have a problem, I can't do anything about it, but I can release my anger in a constructive way that won't get me thrown in jail. I love my life.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Separating Quacks from the real deal
It was a quiet day, most of the fun people went home. :( Did not meet any celebrities or embarrass myself, so I suppose it was a good day.
I rescued my new friend and long lost cousin Chip from the clutches of evil and we did a turn about the floor for a few minutes. He asked me if I was "into" all this stuff. Truly, the conference was fun. Mostly because I got to hang with my old friends and make new ones. I found a lot of good books. But here is what I told Chip. There are a lot of quacks there, marketing spirituality as truth, when in reality, it's just garbage. BUT there are also some really good books out there, and what will take a lot of prayer, discernment, and time in Scripture, is figuring out which is which.
For example, I met a lady signing a book on a topic very near and dear to my heart-forgiveness. We sat and chatted about it for a while, and she gave me what I thought was a very good model. Well, tonight on the phone with a good friend, I told her about it, and she says, "Danica, that's not Biblical." Huh? So we went through some of it, dug in some Scripture, and well, before I make any decisions on the value of this book, I'm going to have to do some more digging. BUT, as I told her, the value may be in the time I take to figure it out, because I'll still be digging in truth.
See, I think sometimes, we fool ourselves into thinking we've got it all figured out. That these authors penning great works are on a pedastal of having things figured out. They don't. And if they say they do, they're morons and you need to run away as fast as you can.
Some quacks are obvious. Chip and I rather smugly (but in a very funny way) could pick out a few right off the bat. Others, though, hide their lies behind cool covers, great marketing, and catchy titles.
So take the time to figure it out. You won't have it all figured out, but in the figuring, you'll find answers to some of your questions, as well as questions you never had, and realize that there is so much more out there to learn. The fun of it, though, is figuring it out for yourself. I think here in America, despite the whole freedom and supposed independent thinking we have, we're all too content to let others do the thinking for us. Because you know, I don't have the market on truth. Maybe folks read what I have to say and think I'm a quack. That's fine. Just make sure it's because you've thought it through, dug into some Scripture, and know from whence you speak.
Going to step off the soapbox now so I can go to bed and do it all again tomorrow. Tomorrow will be fun, though-I'm going to the Captivating mini conference, and as some of you know, I read the book and rather enjoyed it. Camy has some interesting thoughts on the book. I'd link now, but I'm tired and lazy, so I'll do it tomorrow in my summary. If I remember to talk about Captivating and am not distracting by a funny, embarrassing, or otherwise notable event.
I rescued my new friend and long lost cousin Chip from the clutches of evil and we did a turn about the floor for a few minutes. He asked me if I was "into" all this stuff. Truly, the conference was fun. Mostly because I got to hang with my old friends and make new ones. I found a lot of good books. But here is what I told Chip. There are a lot of quacks there, marketing spirituality as truth, when in reality, it's just garbage. BUT there are also some really good books out there, and what will take a lot of prayer, discernment, and time in Scripture, is figuring out which is which.
For example, I met a lady signing a book on a topic very near and dear to my heart-forgiveness. We sat and chatted about it for a while, and she gave me what I thought was a very good model. Well, tonight on the phone with a good friend, I told her about it, and she says, "Danica, that's not Biblical." Huh? So we went through some of it, dug in some Scripture, and well, before I make any decisions on the value of this book, I'm going to have to do some more digging. BUT, as I told her, the value may be in the time I take to figure it out, because I'll still be digging in truth.
See, I think sometimes, we fool ourselves into thinking we've got it all figured out. That these authors penning great works are on a pedastal of having things figured out. They don't. And if they say they do, they're morons and you need to run away as fast as you can.
Some quacks are obvious. Chip and I rather smugly (but in a very funny way) could pick out a few right off the bat. Others, though, hide their lies behind cool covers, great marketing, and catchy titles.
So take the time to figure it out. You won't have it all figured out, but in the figuring, you'll find answers to some of your questions, as well as questions you never had, and realize that there is so much more out there to learn. The fun of it, though, is figuring it out for yourself. I think here in America, despite the whole freedom and supposed independent thinking we have, we're all too content to let others do the thinking for us. Because you know, I don't have the market on truth. Maybe folks read what I have to say and think I'm a quack. That's fine. Just make sure it's because you've thought it through, dug into some Scripture, and know from whence you speak.
Going to step off the soapbox now so I can go to bed and do it all again tomorrow. Tomorrow will be fun, though-I'm going to the Captivating mini conference, and as some of you know, I read the book and rather enjoyed it. Camy has some interesting thoughts on the book. I'd link now, but I'm tired and lazy, so I'll do it tomorrow in my summary. If I remember to talk about Captivating and am not distracting by a funny, embarrassing, or otherwise notable event.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Kirk Cameron and letting go of other childish things
So there I am, completely awestruck by the whole conference, and I'm debating about getting in line for a signing. Being the random person I am, I stop, do a 180 and run into... Kirk Cameron. No, I am not kidding. I am dating myself here, but for those of you who don't know, he was on a tv show called Growing Pains. All my friends and I had a crush on him, and I do believe that we got into a number of fights as to which one of us would end up being Mrs. Kirk Cameron. Sadly, that did not happen.
However, imagine my shock as I nearly knock the man, who I have not thought about since I was a teenager, to the ground. Yes, I am so graceful. Fortunately, it was pretty much a non-event, and as I glanced at the once teen heartthrob, I thought, he's not so cute. He was there to promote a book his mom (maybe with him?) was doing. The line was so long, I didn't feel like standing in it to say hi or get a copy of the book. Besides, what do you say? "Dude, I know nothing about you, except I once thought you were hot, and now you're kinda old. But hey, congrats on the success and I hope the book does well." Yeah. Not.
Because there is something weird about running into a former crush/former flame that makes you realize what an utter idiot you were. Like, how could I have possibly imagined that I'd somehow meet Kirk Cameron, knock him off his feet (not quite, but go with me here), he'd look deep into my eyes and say, "Danica, you are the most amazing woman in the world. I'll die if you don't marry me." Pretty stupid, eh?
So why am I imagining that as I wander this conference, that I'll be there next year, big fat contract under my belt? That in Atlanta, I'll be wandering the halls, some editor is going to fall at his or her feet, and say, "Danica, I've been waiting my whole life for you-you're simply the most brilliant writer I've ever met."
Why do we indulge in such childish fantasies?
The truth is, it will never happen. Not unless I get my butt in the chair, pour some blood, sweat, and tears into my books, then knock some editor dead with a killer query, synopsis, manuscript, and marketing plan. I know, no one ever told me that I needed one before selling. But as I walk the floor at CBA/ICRS, I realized just how much work and effort goes into a single book. When I chatted with my beloved Camy regarding her book deal (mega publisher, super sweet deal), one of the things she said pushed her over the edge was that she knew her market. She'd done her research, and they could sell her. I also walked the floor with one of our editors, who picked up a book from an author at another house. She told me, "I really wish I could have bought this book. I tried to buy this book and make it fit, but I couldn't get it to fit within any of our market guidelines." Probably not an exact quote, but close enough.
As I look at my books, I have to ask, "have I done my homework?" The truth is, I could be doing it a lot better. I chatted with Paula briefly about The Book, and the person with her (sorry, I do not remember her name) gave me some advice that is absolutely priceless. One of the realizations about The Book I had at the conference, is that it's being done right now. The author said, "That's good. It's hot right now. You need to figure out what makes your take on it different, and write it, because that's what the market wants." She encouraged me to write it, because the window of it being "hot" is small-and if I want to do it, it has to be now.
As much as I think I'm doing all the work I need to do to sell a book, the truth is, I'm not even close. Even though I think I'm there, my publishing dream is a little like wanting to marry Kirk Cameron. I had no idea who he was, what he liked, if we were even compatible, and yet, I had the whole wedding planned.
Time to grow up, put away the pinup poster, get my butt in chair, hands on keyboard, and get 'er done.
However, imagine my shock as I nearly knock the man, who I have not thought about since I was a teenager, to the ground. Yes, I am so graceful. Fortunately, it was pretty much a non-event, and as I glanced at the once teen heartthrob, I thought, he's not so cute. He was there to promote a book his mom (maybe with him?) was doing. The line was so long, I didn't feel like standing in it to say hi or get a copy of the book. Besides, what do you say? "Dude, I know nothing about you, except I once thought you were hot, and now you're kinda old. But hey, congrats on the success and I hope the book does well." Yeah. Not.
Because there is something weird about running into a former crush/former flame that makes you realize what an utter idiot you were. Like, how could I have possibly imagined that I'd somehow meet Kirk Cameron, knock him off his feet (not quite, but go with me here), he'd look deep into my eyes and say, "Danica, you are the most amazing woman in the world. I'll die if you don't marry me." Pretty stupid, eh?
So why am I imagining that as I wander this conference, that I'll be there next year, big fat contract under my belt? That in Atlanta, I'll be wandering the halls, some editor is going to fall at his or her feet, and say, "Danica, I've been waiting my whole life for you-you're simply the most brilliant writer I've ever met."
Why do we indulge in such childish fantasies?
The truth is, it will never happen. Not unless I get my butt in the chair, pour some blood, sweat, and tears into my books, then knock some editor dead with a killer query, synopsis, manuscript, and marketing plan. I know, no one ever told me that I needed one before selling. But as I walk the floor at CBA/ICRS, I realized just how much work and effort goes into a single book. When I chatted with my beloved Camy regarding her book deal (mega publisher, super sweet deal), one of the things she said pushed her over the edge was that she knew her market. She'd done her research, and they could sell her. I also walked the floor with one of our editors, who picked up a book from an author at another house. She told me, "I really wish I could have bought this book. I tried to buy this book and make it fit, but I couldn't get it to fit within any of our market guidelines." Probably not an exact quote, but close enough.
As I look at my books, I have to ask, "have I done my homework?" The truth is, I could be doing it a lot better. I chatted with Paula briefly about The Book, and the person with her (sorry, I do not remember her name) gave me some advice that is absolutely priceless. One of the realizations about The Book I had at the conference, is that it's being done right now. The author said, "That's good. It's hot right now. You need to figure out what makes your take on it different, and write it, because that's what the market wants." She encouraged me to write it, because the window of it being "hot" is small-and if I want to do it, it has to be now.
As much as I think I'm doing all the work I need to do to sell a book, the truth is, I'm not even close. Even though I think I'm there, my publishing dream is a little like wanting to marry Kirk Cameron. I had no idea who he was, what he liked, if we were even compatible, and yet, I had the whole wedding planned.
Time to grow up, put away the pinup poster, get my butt in chair, hands on keyboard, and get 'er done.
Wish you were here...
I'd hoped to do something super cool for this, my 100th post on Blogger (which is deceiving since I have a lot more on Bravenet).
However, I am beat. We had such a good time tonight. I have some new best friends, and some fun stories to tell, which you have to remind me of AFTER the conference. Stories so far:
1. The Sisterhood of the Exploding Pants
2. Karaoke Night
3. All the fun new people I met
4. God blowing up my writing universe yet again
5. Being Camy's groupie/MaryLu's groupie
6. Um, I forget...
However, I am beat. We had such a good time tonight. I have some new best friends, and some fun stories to tell, which you have to remind me of AFTER the conference. Stories so far:
1. The Sisterhood of the Exploding Pants
2. Karaoke Night
3. All the fun new people I met
4. God blowing up my writing universe yet again
5. Being Camy's groupie/MaryLu's groupie
6. Um, I forget...
Sunday, July 09, 2006
How Great is Our God
I do love that song. I got to hear it tonight at the worship thing at CBA. Awesome evening. A lot of great performers, some I didn't care for, but mostly, very very enjoyable. And, on the way home, I got to hear the one and only Chris Tomlin sing it on the radio, so I was very happy. I love how everyone in the universe at every single worship thing I've been to lately sings this song, but man, Tomlin does it best. Although I've decided they should make it illegal to play this song on the radio. I got so busy and happy worshipping while driving, I almost crashed. I do that everytime that song comes on, too. Health hazard, I tell you.
Other fun events of my first CBA day. I got to see Camy and met her friend, MaryLu , who is a very sweet woman I got to spend the evening with while Camy hobnobbed. We scoped out the show floor, which does not open until tomorrow. Very exciting stuff. Had NO IDEA how huge this thing is. We also got to see MaryLu's first book on display, which was very exciting.
Are you getting the idea that this is very exciting?
Tomorrow, I get to see the rest of the SH crew. And for those of you who know of what I do for them, do stop by the anniversary party on the boards. I'm hoping to coordinate some of that stuff with seeing folks tomorrow, God and technology willing. I am so beside myself with excitement, because it was so cool to see Camy, even though we did not nearly have enough time, and tomorrow, I get to see even more folks. On the agenda- hugfest with my favorite friends, lunch with Ginny Aiken, signings (and YAY! some of the authors I haven't met yet), and I think my head is going to explode if I continue. :)
Plus, I gotta get to bed. It's gonna be an early morning and long day. :)
Other fun events of my first CBA day. I got to see Camy and met her friend, MaryLu , who is a very sweet woman I got to spend the evening with while Camy hobnobbed. We scoped out the show floor, which does not open until tomorrow. Very exciting stuff. Had NO IDEA how huge this thing is. We also got to see MaryLu's first book on display, which was very exciting.
Are you getting the idea that this is very exciting?
Tomorrow, I get to see the rest of the SH crew. And for those of you who know of what I do for them, do stop by the anniversary party on the boards. I'm hoping to coordinate some of that stuff with seeing folks tomorrow, God and technology willing. I am so beside myself with excitement, because it was so cool to see Camy, even though we did not nearly have enough time, and tomorrow, I get to see even more folks. On the agenda- hugfest with my favorite friends, lunch with Ginny Aiken, signings (and YAY! some of the authors I haven't met yet), and I think my head is going to explode if I continue. :)
Plus, I gotta get to bed. It's gonna be an early morning and long day. :)
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Idiots and Happiness
I know, they really don't go together well, do they? Although I think idiots really must be happy with themselves, because they seem content to remain idiots. So maybe they do go together. *shrugs*
However, in my life, idiots are a great source of unhappiness.
I'll begin with waking up. I told That Man last night to please get me up in time to get Bay to school and Kay to the doctor's. Well, he woke me up at 8:30 (Bay has to be at school at 9) and says, "Aren't you going to get up?" (As though I was idiot for sleeping in) Yes, I am-as soon as you WAKE ME UP!!!
Now, for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of dealing with me in the morning, I suggest it be an experience you forgo. Particularly on mornings when I am running late. I am mean. I am homicidal. And the very worst transgression you can commit is getting in my way and/or talking to me. Guess who spent the morning following me around? Except for the fact that he's feeling slightly insecure over my regular death threats, I not only would have threatened to kill him, but I might have done it had I been given access to a decent weapon.
You have to wonder at the sanity of a guy who can smile at you, be all kissy face at you, and tell you he loves you while you've got a death grip on a butter knife. But hey, that's why I love him, so I suppose as long as remembers to keep me away from sharp objects when I'm in a mood, he's safe.
Got Bay to school, took my things to the dry cleaners so I can wear something other than sweats and PJs to the CBA thing. Because I am poor, yet thrifty, I chose to try a new drycleaners-one that had a coupon in the coupon thing you get in the mail. They had a map. Said cleaners does not exist. In fact, a cleaners DOES exist at that location, however, it's a different name, and they were pretty adamant about not putting out that coupon. Lady also could not get in her head that I wanted my clothes done by tomorrow. I think she sniffed too many cleaning chemicals. I caved and took my clothes to a place we usually use, and plunked down a small fortune to clean my clothes. Note to self: don't be an idiot and buy dry clean only stuff, even though it's cute.
Hit the Starbucks drive through. Ordered my usual-Venti Earl Grey Tea, Cambric with two honeys. It's really not hard. In fact, it's quite tasty. However, the idiot lady was so busy cooing at my baby that she forgot my honey. Which I did not realize until the tea had cooled enough to drink, ten minutes down the freeway. Now I can drink my tea with honey, I survived quite nicely for a number of years before I discovered this epicurean treat. However, once the palate becomes spoiled, and one is expecting a certain level of tea making prowess, to not have honey in my tea is unacceptable.
Got to the doctor's, and my doc is not in on Fridays, so we got to see the cute one. Which is really the plus side of my daughter's injuries. The paramedics, the ER doc, they were all really cute too. Cute Doc said she was just fine, and mostly spent his time reassuring me that I'm a good mommy. :) That was a very happy moment. Until we got ready to leave and idiot self spilled her Earl Grey tea all over the doctor's office. You know, once you see it seeping into the fabric of a chair, to be enjoyed by no one, the fact that your Earl Grey tea has no honey in it really doesn't matter. You just want your tea back.
Came home, worked on picking up the house, talked to my dad, blah blah blah, picked Bay up from school, went to Subway to get some lunch, ate lunch, talked to my my mom, picked up the house some more, blah blah blah.
Then, I went for my massage. *Doing big happy dance* My friend told me about this place that does $25 massages (Yes, for an HOUR) and they're really good. Super really good. I have an appointment for next week too. At $25 a pop, I can now afford weekly massage. Life is going to be really good. I am pleased to report that no idiots reared their heads during my massage.
Post massage, I went to the store to pick up some fried chicken and dessert-my friend was going to drop off her kiddos at my house so she and her hubster could have a night out. Idiot self forgot that MY kiddos don't like the sides I chose. Idiot self also forgot that friend's children eat nonstop. Needless to say, I spent the evening listening to choruses of, "I'm hungry. Do you have anything else to eat?" They're like locusts. They ate everything in my house. Fortunately, they did not find my M&M stash.
And then, because my FIL needs the steam cleaner, we picked up around the house so we could clean some spots first. This led to my deciding that I liked the cleanliness of things, and because of that idiot who could not allow me to be happy today, I ended up going Rambo cleaning, and cleared out a large portion of DSD's room. And so, all the wonderful relaxation done to my body today-completely undone. My back is killing me.
I had nothing to blog about, until That Man sent me an email. He'd asked me to write it for him, which I did, however, I had a couple of places where I said things like (insert blah blah blah here). He copied me on the final version. He did not insert blah blah blah here, in fact, he sent the exact copy I sent him. *shaking head*
I think there is something wrong with our water. Either that or idiot alien demons took over portions of our brains last night. I'm going to bed now, and hopefully, the idiot interfering with my happy place will be gone in the morning.
However, in my life, idiots are a great source of unhappiness.
I'll begin with waking up. I told That Man last night to please get me up in time to get Bay to school and Kay to the doctor's. Well, he woke me up at 8:30 (Bay has to be at school at 9) and says, "Aren't you going to get up?" (As though I was idiot for sleeping in) Yes, I am-as soon as you WAKE ME UP!!!
Now, for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of dealing with me in the morning, I suggest it be an experience you forgo. Particularly on mornings when I am running late. I am mean. I am homicidal. And the very worst transgression you can commit is getting in my way and/or talking to me. Guess who spent the morning following me around? Except for the fact that he's feeling slightly insecure over my regular death threats, I not only would have threatened to kill him, but I might have done it had I been given access to a decent weapon.
You have to wonder at the sanity of a guy who can smile at you, be all kissy face at you, and tell you he loves you while you've got a death grip on a butter knife. But hey, that's why I love him, so I suppose as long as remembers to keep me away from sharp objects when I'm in a mood, he's safe.
Got Bay to school, took my things to the dry cleaners so I can wear something other than sweats and PJs to the CBA thing. Because I am poor, yet thrifty, I chose to try a new drycleaners-one that had a coupon in the coupon thing you get in the mail. They had a map. Said cleaners does not exist. In fact, a cleaners DOES exist at that location, however, it's a different name, and they were pretty adamant about not putting out that coupon. Lady also could not get in her head that I wanted my clothes done by tomorrow. I think she sniffed too many cleaning chemicals. I caved and took my clothes to a place we usually use, and plunked down a small fortune to clean my clothes. Note to self: don't be an idiot and buy dry clean only stuff, even though it's cute.
Hit the Starbucks drive through. Ordered my usual-Venti Earl Grey Tea, Cambric with two honeys. It's really not hard. In fact, it's quite tasty. However, the idiot lady was so busy cooing at my baby that she forgot my honey. Which I did not realize until the tea had cooled enough to drink, ten minutes down the freeway. Now I can drink my tea with honey, I survived quite nicely for a number of years before I discovered this epicurean treat. However, once the palate becomes spoiled, and one is expecting a certain level of tea making prowess, to not have honey in my tea is unacceptable.
Got to the doctor's, and my doc is not in on Fridays, so we got to see the cute one. Which is really the plus side of my daughter's injuries. The paramedics, the ER doc, they were all really cute too. Cute Doc said she was just fine, and mostly spent his time reassuring me that I'm a good mommy. :) That was a very happy moment. Until we got ready to leave and idiot self spilled her Earl Grey tea all over the doctor's office. You know, once you see it seeping into the fabric of a chair, to be enjoyed by no one, the fact that your Earl Grey tea has no honey in it really doesn't matter. You just want your tea back.
Came home, worked on picking up the house, talked to my dad, blah blah blah, picked Bay up from school, went to Subway to get some lunch, ate lunch, talked to my my mom, picked up the house some more, blah blah blah.
Then, I went for my massage. *Doing big happy dance* My friend told me about this place that does $25 massages (Yes, for an HOUR) and they're really good. Super really good. I have an appointment for next week too. At $25 a pop, I can now afford weekly massage. Life is going to be really good. I am pleased to report that no idiots reared their heads during my massage.
Post massage, I went to the store to pick up some fried chicken and dessert-my friend was going to drop off her kiddos at my house so she and her hubster could have a night out. Idiot self forgot that MY kiddos don't like the sides I chose. Idiot self also forgot that friend's children eat nonstop. Needless to say, I spent the evening listening to choruses of, "I'm hungry. Do you have anything else to eat?" They're like locusts. They ate everything in my house. Fortunately, they did not find my M&M stash.
And then, because my FIL needs the steam cleaner, we picked up around the house so we could clean some spots first. This led to my deciding that I liked the cleanliness of things, and because of that idiot who could not allow me to be happy today, I ended up going Rambo cleaning, and cleared out a large portion of DSD's room. And so, all the wonderful relaxation done to my body today-completely undone. My back is killing me.
I had nothing to blog about, until That Man sent me an email. He'd asked me to write it for him, which I did, however, I had a couple of places where I said things like (insert blah blah blah here). He copied me on the final version. He did not insert blah blah blah here, in fact, he sent the exact copy I sent him. *shaking head*
I think there is something wrong with our water. Either that or idiot alien demons took over portions of our brains last night. I'm going to bed now, and hopefully, the idiot interfering with my happy place will be gone in the morning.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
My awful night
If the writing thing wasn't bad enough, I had another terrible thing happen last night. It actually was earlier in the evening, but I was too freaked out to talk about it.
We were all on the bed, watching TV, and Kay tumbled off the bed. She cried for a second, DH picked her up, and she stopped breathing. We couldn't get her to respond, so I called 911. Just as I got the operator on line, she started breathing again. Which was good, but since I actually dialed the number, they are required to send someone out. The paramedics arrived, checked her out, said she was fine, and asked if I wanted an ambulance to the hospital. Uh, no, she's fine. Well, because I got the paramedics involved, they have to either take her to the hospital or I have to agree to take her.
So we took her to the ER. She's obviously fine, the doctors agree she's fine, and while they did diagnose her with a mild concussion, they said that she probably didn't actually stop breathing-she was just holding her breath. HUH? They gave us some literature, and sure enough, it's something that some kids her age do when they're injured or upset. They hold their breath without realizing it (except some kids do learn to use it to manipulate their parents), giving everyone quite a scare.
Just as they're filling out the discharge papers, my beloved baby decides to climb the exam table, loses her footing, and yes, goes crashing down head first on to the tiled floor. Talk about embarrassing. I can only imagine what kind of bad parents these doctors thing we are. Fortunately, they also saw me having to chase the little monster down a couple of times when she escaped the exam room, so I'm thinking they realize she's not an ordinary two year old-she's super baby! But still... how embarrassing to bring a kid in to the ER for a concussion and have her knock herself silly right as the doctors are discharging her? Needless to say we had to stay in the ER a bit longer to make sure she didn't do further damage to herself with this fall.
I'm taking her back to the doctor tomorrow to make sure she's fine (another legal thing we're required to do, apparently). She's had a few of these falls where it took her a while to take a breath (this was just longer-too long, IMO), so I do want to be thorough. Even though they gave me information on how to deal with breath holding, there's still questions I want to ask. Like, the papers say do NOT give CPR, so how do you know when it's not just simple breath holding, and actually something serious that needs CPR. Which reminds me, I haven't had a CPR class since Bay was born, probably something I need to go take care of. I was so upset when Kay wasn't breathing, that I don't think I'd have remembered what to do. I was shaking so bad, I could barely call 911.
She's perfectly fine today, you'd never know she fell and hurt herself-honestly, there was no visible damage to her at all-just the fact that we had those terrifying few moments where she was not breathing. That Man says it was only about thirty seconds, but I think it was longer. I waited the normal few seconds while he tried to get her to respond, and then it took me a while to find the phone to call 911. She didn't start breathing until the operator was on the line. So it was just a short, scary time. It took a while to come down off the adrenaline.
We were all on the bed, watching TV, and Kay tumbled off the bed. She cried for a second, DH picked her up, and she stopped breathing. We couldn't get her to respond, so I called 911. Just as I got the operator on line, she started breathing again. Which was good, but since I actually dialed the number, they are required to send someone out. The paramedics arrived, checked her out, said she was fine, and asked if I wanted an ambulance to the hospital. Uh, no, she's fine. Well, because I got the paramedics involved, they have to either take her to the hospital or I have to agree to take her.
So we took her to the ER. She's obviously fine, the doctors agree she's fine, and while they did diagnose her with a mild concussion, they said that she probably didn't actually stop breathing-she was just holding her breath. HUH? They gave us some literature, and sure enough, it's something that some kids her age do when they're injured or upset. They hold their breath without realizing it (except some kids do learn to use it to manipulate their parents), giving everyone quite a scare.
Just as they're filling out the discharge papers, my beloved baby decides to climb the exam table, loses her footing, and yes, goes crashing down head first on to the tiled floor. Talk about embarrassing. I can only imagine what kind of bad parents these doctors thing we are. Fortunately, they also saw me having to chase the little monster down a couple of times when she escaped the exam room, so I'm thinking they realize she's not an ordinary two year old-she's super baby! But still... how embarrassing to bring a kid in to the ER for a concussion and have her knock herself silly right as the doctors are discharging her? Needless to say we had to stay in the ER a bit longer to make sure she didn't do further damage to herself with this fall.
I'm taking her back to the doctor tomorrow to make sure she's fine (another legal thing we're required to do, apparently). She's had a few of these falls where it took her a while to take a breath (this was just longer-too long, IMO), so I do want to be thorough. Even though they gave me information on how to deal with breath holding, there's still questions I want to ask. Like, the papers say do NOT give CPR, so how do you know when it's not just simple breath holding, and actually something serious that needs CPR. Which reminds me, I haven't had a CPR class since Bay was born, probably something I need to go take care of. I was so upset when Kay wasn't breathing, that I don't think I'd have remembered what to do. I was shaking so bad, I could barely call 911.
She's perfectly fine today, you'd never know she fell and hurt herself-honestly, there was no visible damage to her at all-just the fact that we had those terrifying few moments where she was not breathing. That Man says it was only about thirty seconds, but I think it was longer. I waited the normal few seconds while he tried to get her to respond, and then it took me a while to find the phone to call 911. She didn't start breathing until the operator was on the line. So it was just a short, scary time. It took a while to come down off the adrenaline.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Please, please, please, can I kill something?
Well, WTW, that blessed piece of literary achievement, is back on the drawingboard rather than winging its way to New York. *Insert your favorite obscenities* And since the CP I just got it from occasionally peeps in here, I'm going to give a great big huge disclaimer-it is NOT her fault. I am NOT mad at her. She is NOT on my death list.
Basically, the things she pointed out as being problematic are the exact same things pointed out as problematic years ago when I shelved the project. I THOUGHT I FIXED THEM. *sobs* And the thing is, I absolutely see where she's coming from. It would be so much easier if I could say that she's a crack smoking moron who needs a mental checkup. As I read her comments, I really couldn't find anything that I could say, "You're WRONG!"
So I don't know what to do. I've spent the past year trying to fix this book and make it into something sellable, something I wouldn't be ashamed to send in. Apparently, I've failed. Worse, I don't feel like I've learned anything, because I have not fixed it. I'd at least feel better if OTHER things were wrong. But no, it's the same stuff. In fact, I'd lost her by page FIVE. Five. As in, the five years I've been trying to sell a book. Must be my lucky number. :)
I'm not quitting, I'm not even thinking of it. I'm just wondering what I'm doing, continuing in this same rut. Is it worth wasting another year on? And how can I keep all the work from being wasted?
Do you think they'd buy a book where the heroine dies? I could have so much fun slaughtering her.
Basically, the things she pointed out as being problematic are the exact same things pointed out as problematic years ago when I shelved the project. I THOUGHT I FIXED THEM. *sobs* And the thing is, I absolutely see where she's coming from. It would be so much easier if I could say that she's a crack smoking moron who needs a mental checkup. As I read her comments, I really couldn't find anything that I could say, "You're WRONG!"
So I don't know what to do. I've spent the past year trying to fix this book and make it into something sellable, something I wouldn't be ashamed to send in. Apparently, I've failed. Worse, I don't feel like I've learned anything, because I have not fixed it. I'd at least feel better if OTHER things were wrong. But no, it's the same stuff. In fact, I'd lost her by page FIVE. Five. As in, the five years I've been trying to sell a book. Must be my lucky number. :)
I'm not quitting, I'm not even thinking of it. I'm just wondering what I'm doing, continuing in this same rut. Is it worth wasting another year on? And how can I keep all the work from being wasted?
Do you think they'd buy a book where the heroine dies? I could have so much fun slaughtering her.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Meet Peter and Britta
This, my friends, is the friends to lovers story, a modern day marriage of convenience. I put on one of my favorite movies, Someone Like You, and I realized that Hugh and Ashley are the perfect Peter and Britta.
Can I just say there is no experience more joyful for me than sitting down and creating new stories? It's so funny, I've been stressing about process lately, and I hear about character worksheets and all that, and I have a really hard time with it. I finally realized that I'm a weird combo writer. I need about the first 50-75 pages to stretch my legs, figure out who these people are, what their deal is, and anything prior to that is a collosal waste of my time. How do I know what their favorite color is, their worst fears, their greatest hopes, without ever spending time with them? I need those first few chapters to really dig in. However, once I get them figured out, I need a synopsis to keep me grounded. Half pantser, half plotter. Gotta love it. So here I am, almost at page 50, and I'm finally starting to get a feel for these guys. Probably in about another twenty pages, I can write a decent synopsis, and then I'll be off...
Of course, I haven't exactly committed to this book, because right now, nothing feels quite right. But I'll get there. Until then, keep my folks happy, and if they tell you anything about their story, do share.
Off to discover some more about this crazy pair!
(Oh, and while they LOOK the characters in the movie, they act nothing like them. Peter is an uptight financial genius, and Britta is a free-spirited caterer. She is going to tear his universe apart. *rubbing hands evilly together*)
I just reminded myself of something. For all my threats to kill people off in my books, there is really a lack of dead bodies in my books. Since I'm not at synopsizing phase yet, when I am there, will someone remind me that I need to kill someone in this book?
Germany deserved to lose
Yeah, world cup soccer mania is still in our house. You know, the hubby and all... Sadly, because most Americans don't love soccer the way the rest of the world does, we have to watch the matches on the Spanish channel. It's really surreal, watching games in another language. I think I might be learning some Spanish. :)
So the game... Germany is such an awesome and skilled team. They truly dominated it. However. For as many scoring opportunities as they had, they blew them. They should have pulled Podolski and didn't. The guy missed at least a half a dozen easy goals. Yeah, I know, easy for me to say from my armchair. But frankly, if you're a professional player, there should just be shots that you should not miss. It's like my dad has always said about basketball. For a professional basketball player, there should be no excuse for missing free throws. If I were to ever own a basketball team, I would fine players for missing. Seriously. Going back to the soccer game, these were the sort of easy shots that Podolski just completely blew over the goal. And then... oh, this one was brilliant. One of his teammates had a perfect shot on goal that there was no way the keeper would have been able to get to in time. Podolski accidentally heads it out of the goal.
Yeah.
I hope the Italians send him flowers. They really didn't play all that well, but for the idocy of the Germans, they're headed to the finals. France and Portugal should be a good game, and I look for the winner of that one to slaughter the Italians. Of course, I'm always wrong in my sports predictions so the Italians will probably end up winning it all.
So the game... Germany is such an awesome and skilled team. They truly dominated it. However. For as many scoring opportunities as they had, they blew them. They should have pulled Podolski and didn't. The guy missed at least a half a dozen easy goals. Yeah, I know, easy for me to say from my armchair. But frankly, if you're a professional player, there should just be shots that you should not miss. It's like my dad has always said about basketball. For a professional basketball player, there should be no excuse for missing free throws. If I were to ever own a basketball team, I would fine players for missing. Seriously. Going back to the soccer game, these were the sort of easy shots that Podolski just completely blew over the goal. And then... oh, this one was brilliant. One of his teammates had a perfect shot on goal that there was no way the keeper would have been able to get to in time. Podolski accidentally heads it out of the goal.
Yeah.
I hope the Italians send him flowers. They really didn't play all that well, but for the idocy of the Germans, they're headed to the finals. France and Portugal should be a good game, and I look for the winner of that one to slaughter the Italians. Of course, I'm always wrong in my sports predictions so the Italians will probably end up winning it all.
Finding forgiveness
I'm kind of in a weird mode right now-I originally did the whole My Space thing because I wanted to connect with a couple of folks, but never really got into it. And then more of my friends started joining and now it's a semi big thing, I suppose. Anyway, I finally bit the bullet in terms of leaving my hermit existence and added my high school and college. Which led me to reminiscing.
Now since I do have my college and high school on there, I'm not sure how much to put here, because I'd hate to have folks look me up and find me trashing them. But there's a point to it, I promise. Long story short, most of my college years involved my being a part of a VERY toxic situation that nearly destroyed me. I hate to give those folks the satisfaction of knowing that, but there ya go. See, that's the point of my forgiveness post.
As some of you know, I have HUGE issues with forgiveness. I've been really praying about it and talking to God about it, and the thing is, I just don't understand why I can't forgive. Tonight, as I was thinking about some of this and reliving some of the old wounds, I found a way to forgive.
One of the biggest wounds came from a person who was an advisor, and supposedly a trusted friend. Lesson number one that I should have seen coming, but didn't until it was too late, is that if a person bad mouths others behind their backs, but kisses their butt to their face, they're probably doing it to you too. I don't know why I thought I was immune, but I never saw the knife coming until it was too late.
I'd applied for a really big, prestigious fellowship (funny, I can't even remember the name) and pretty much had it all locked up, except for one letter of recommendation. I mentioned it to this person, and she got all excited, wanted to help me out, and assured me that she was going to write the perfect letter. What she never knew was that I ended up having the opportunity to read this letter. It was perfect, all right. Think of the meanest character assasination you could do on a person-it was all that and more. In a letter to a committee that was deciding my fate for my career. Yeah, not pretty. It devastated me. I wish I had a copy just so I could show how venomous this letter was. Though I'm glad I don't, because with all my issues, I'd probably use it as proof of what a horrible person I am.
I've never been able to forgive her for that. It literally destroyed my chances at some things I'd really wanted in my future. The other letters written on my behalf-were amazing. But the lies and venom in this one letter... I truly hated this woman for that.
I hurt, even now, thinking of it. What kind of person would do such a thing? She always did think I needed to be taken down a notch or two. And yes, I knew she was a miserably unhappy woman with absolutely no self esteem. But why me?
As I thought about it tonight, I realized that even though she thought she was getting me good, she actually did me a favor. Had I gotten this fellowship, my life would be vastly different. I'd be off in some career, and while I'd probably be very good at it, would I have the life I have? I wouldn't have my husband, who I met because I had to take some time off to re-evaluate my direction after this person's betrayal (among other things). Which means I wouldn't have my amazing kiddos. More importantly, all the things that have happened on this particular path are all things that brought me closer to God. They've made me a better person.
Back when I was a freshman in college, one of these toxic people informed me that they were going to break my spirit, that I needed to be taken down, and I needed to learn my place. And to an extent, they succeeded. They broke me in ways that I can't even explain. But see, God is bigger than that. And He is bigger than them. So He was able to take all that broken stuff and use it for His glory.
In this realization, I'm able to find peace. And yes, forgiveness. How can I remain angry when it was their treachery that brought me to the place I am at now? Because this is a much better place. I know why I love Genesis 50:20 so much-"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." These people did intend harm, and trust me when I say they did everything in their power to make sure of it. But all the good and blessings that have flowed into my life-despite their plans-it is truly a miracle of God.
So thank you, mean people that I have enough grace to not publicly name. I am so grateful for all the things you did to me, even though it really hurt. You have no idea how many miracles have been wrought from those acts. God is so good.
Wow. It's 5 am-I haven't gone to bed yet. Funny, many of my friends are just waking up and starting their day (thus sayeth the pings to my inbox) and I'm seriously looking at catching some z's. I wonder how long the kiddos will let me sleep.
Now since I do have my college and high school on there, I'm not sure how much to put here, because I'd hate to have folks look me up and find me trashing them. But there's a point to it, I promise. Long story short, most of my college years involved my being a part of a VERY toxic situation that nearly destroyed me. I hate to give those folks the satisfaction of knowing that, but there ya go. See, that's the point of my forgiveness post.
As some of you know, I have HUGE issues with forgiveness. I've been really praying about it and talking to God about it, and the thing is, I just don't understand why I can't forgive. Tonight, as I was thinking about some of this and reliving some of the old wounds, I found a way to forgive.
One of the biggest wounds came from a person who was an advisor, and supposedly a trusted friend. Lesson number one that I should have seen coming, but didn't until it was too late, is that if a person bad mouths others behind their backs, but kisses their butt to their face, they're probably doing it to you too. I don't know why I thought I was immune, but I never saw the knife coming until it was too late.
I'd applied for a really big, prestigious fellowship (funny, I can't even remember the name) and pretty much had it all locked up, except for one letter of recommendation. I mentioned it to this person, and she got all excited, wanted to help me out, and assured me that she was going to write the perfect letter. What she never knew was that I ended up having the opportunity to read this letter. It was perfect, all right. Think of the meanest character assasination you could do on a person-it was all that and more. In a letter to a committee that was deciding my fate for my career. Yeah, not pretty. It devastated me. I wish I had a copy just so I could show how venomous this letter was. Though I'm glad I don't, because with all my issues, I'd probably use it as proof of what a horrible person I am.
I've never been able to forgive her for that. It literally destroyed my chances at some things I'd really wanted in my future. The other letters written on my behalf-were amazing. But the lies and venom in this one letter... I truly hated this woman for that.
I hurt, even now, thinking of it. What kind of person would do such a thing? She always did think I needed to be taken down a notch or two. And yes, I knew she was a miserably unhappy woman with absolutely no self esteem. But why me?
As I thought about it tonight, I realized that even though she thought she was getting me good, she actually did me a favor. Had I gotten this fellowship, my life would be vastly different. I'd be off in some career, and while I'd probably be very good at it, would I have the life I have? I wouldn't have my husband, who I met because I had to take some time off to re-evaluate my direction after this person's betrayal (among other things). Which means I wouldn't have my amazing kiddos. More importantly, all the things that have happened on this particular path are all things that brought me closer to God. They've made me a better person.
Back when I was a freshman in college, one of these toxic people informed me that they were going to break my spirit, that I needed to be taken down, and I needed to learn my place. And to an extent, they succeeded. They broke me in ways that I can't even explain. But see, God is bigger than that. And He is bigger than them. So He was able to take all that broken stuff and use it for His glory.
In this realization, I'm able to find peace. And yes, forgiveness. How can I remain angry when it was their treachery that brought me to the place I am at now? Because this is a much better place. I know why I love Genesis 50:20 so much-"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." These people did intend harm, and trust me when I say they did everything in their power to make sure of it. But all the good and blessings that have flowed into my life-despite their plans-it is truly a miracle of God.
So thank you, mean people that I have enough grace to not publicly name. I am so grateful for all the things you did to me, even though it really hurt. You have no idea how many miracles have been wrought from those acts. God is so good.
Wow. It's 5 am-I haven't gone to bed yet. Funny, many of my friends are just waking up and starting their day (thus sayeth the pings to my inbox) and I'm seriously looking at catching some z's. I wonder how long the kiddos will let me sleep.
Beez... beez... beez
Yet another public service announcement-but hey, I'm boring like that. :)
Some of you know of this really cool writing group called the Gonna-Beez. Which, sadly, is not as active as we once were. Well, dang it, I miss it! I miss hanging out all hours, chatting writing, spending time on the hot seat, making others squirm on the hot seat, etc.
Soooo, in the interests of stirring things up, we will be chatting Thursday night at 10 pm Eastern-gonna do the IM chat thing, since yahoo no longer has the chat feature for our group. :(
If you would like to be a part of this fun time, do let me know. I miss all my beez buddies, and since so many of them have sold and changed their names, I don't even remember who is who anymore.
You can IM me on MSN at dreamen1@hotmail.com or Yahoo at dreamenint. Not sure which venue we'll use, I guess it'll depend on which one more folks have. :) And hey, no freaks or perverts IMing me please. I'm really sick of those IMs telling me to check out your webcam. Please. You obviously have nothing worth seeing if you have to beg perfect strangers to look at it.
And if you aren't a Bee, why not? Some people... *shaking head* You can join here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Gonna-beez/
Some of you know of this really cool writing group called the Gonna-Beez. Which, sadly, is not as active as we once were. Well, dang it, I miss it! I miss hanging out all hours, chatting writing, spending time on the hot seat, making others squirm on the hot seat, etc.
Soooo, in the interests of stirring things up, we will be chatting Thursday night at 10 pm Eastern-gonna do the IM chat thing, since yahoo no longer has the chat feature for our group. :(
If you would like to be a part of this fun time, do let me know. I miss all my beez buddies, and since so many of them have sold and changed their names, I don't even remember who is who anymore.
You can IM me on MSN at dreamen1@hotmail.com or Yahoo at dreamenint. Not sure which venue we'll use, I guess it'll depend on which one more folks have. :) And hey, no freaks or perverts IMing me please. I'm really sick of those IMs telling me to check out your webcam. Please. You obviously have nothing worth seeing if you have to beg perfect strangers to look at it.
And if you aren't a Bee, why not? Some people... *shaking head* You can join here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Gonna-beez/
Monday, July 03, 2006
A Public Service Announcement
Because I'm such a great friend, I like to do things to help out my friends... hahahaha... Seriously, when a friend says, "Hey Dreamy, can you advertise on your blog for me," I say, "why not?" I can post millions of posts for free if I want, so hey, if you need me to advertise for you, I'm your girl. It's like my favorite quote from Grease says, "if you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter."
Anywhoo... this is for my dear friend Camy, who I will hopefully be having the pleasure of hugging to death in less than a week. Let's make this last week of her life joyful, shall we? (Geez, get a sense of humor, will you?)
The Story Sensei Summer Sale - A writers' summer event!
From now until July 15th, I will be holding a fabulous contest for my Story Sensei critique service.
I will draw the names of TWO lucky winners! They will each receive:
A free synopsis critique – up to 10 pages single-spaced, a $40 value!
AND
A coupon for 25% OFF any manuscript critique – whether full or partial manuscript, any number of words. For a 100,000 word manuscript, that's a savings of $250!
In addition, EVERYONE WHO ENTERS will receive a 10% OFF coupon for any service, whether synopsis, query letter, or manuscript critique (full or partial). For a 100,000 word manuscript, that's a savings of $100, just for entering.
Go to my Story Sensei blog and post a comment to enter the contest!
http://storysensei.blogspot.com/
Anywhoo... this is for my dear friend Camy, who I will hopefully be having the pleasure of hugging to death in less than a week. Let's make this last week of her life joyful, shall we? (Geez, get a sense of humor, will you?)
The Story Sensei Summer Sale - A writers' summer event!
From now until July 15th, I will be holding a fabulous contest for my Story Sensei critique service.
I will draw the names of TWO lucky winners! They will each receive:
A free synopsis critique – up to 10 pages single-spaced, a $40 value!
AND
A coupon for 25% OFF any manuscript critique – whether full or partial manuscript, any number of words. For a 100,000 word manuscript, that's a savings of $250!
In addition, EVERYONE WHO ENTERS will receive a 10% OFF coupon for any service, whether synopsis, query letter, or manuscript critique (full or partial). For a 100,000 word manuscript, that's a savings of $100, just for entering.
Go to my Story Sensei blog and post a comment to enter the contest!
http://storysensei.blogspot.com/
I know, I didn't blog yesterday...
I was on the phone all night.
The cool thing about cell phones is that if you have the right plan, you can call people in your network for free, and you can call anyone on evenings and weekends for free too. It makes it much easier to deal with this long distance friendship thing.
I don't really have a blog topic, I just realized I hadn't blogged because I was on the phone all night last night, and I thought I ought to at least say hello.
Maybe I'll blog about Heather's culvert...
The cool thing about cell phones is that if you have the right plan, you can call people in your network for free, and you can call anyone on evenings and weekends for free too. It makes it much easier to deal with this long distance friendship thing.
I don't really have a blog topic, I just realized I hadn't blogged because I was on the phone all night last night, and I thought I ought to at least say hello.
Maybe I'll blog about Heather's culvert...
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Tagged!
Instructions:
1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. One holiday or observance (if any).
6. Tag 5 more people - if ya feel like it.
**
Three events:
1642 - Charles I calls the English Parliament traitors. Beginning of the English Civil War
1938 - Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are on the cover of Life Magazine
1953 - The jail on Devil's Island is closed
Two important birthdays and one interesting death:
1862 - Claude Debussy, French composer (d. 1918)
1904 - Deng Xiaoping, leader of the People's Republic of China (d. 1997)
1991 - Colleen Dewhurst, Canadian actress (b. 1924)
One holiday or observance
RC feasts - Mary queen of angels
Anyone want to take a stab? How about I tag Tori , Eve , Jana , Loreth , Chrys .
1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. One holiday or observance (if any).
6. Tag 5 more people - if ya feel like it.
**
Three events:
1642 - Charles I calls the English Parliament traitors. Beginning of the English Civil War
1938 - Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are on the cover of Life Magazine
1953 - The jail on Devil's Island is closed
Two important birthdays and one interesting death:
1862 - Claude Debussy, French composer (d. 1918)
1904 - Deng Xiaoping, leader of the People's Republic of China (d. 1997)
1991 - Colleen Dewhurst, Canadian actress (b. 1924)
One holiday or observance
RC feasts - Mary queen of angels
Anyone want to take a stab? How about I tag Tori , Eve , Jana , Loreth , Chrys .
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