Therapy & Psychics

As a teen, writing helped me deal with my emotions. When my kids were little, I had fun writing and illustrating a couple of children’s books. I thought about trying to get them published, but I mostly wrote for myself. Several years passed, I didn’t have a lot of time for writing. Until three years ago...

I was working as a Dental Assistant. I enjoyed my job, and the people I worked with. One day I woke up and my pinky hurt. Yeah, I said pinky. Hold on. There’s more to the story. I couldn’t bend my finger; it felt like I had jammed it, although I couldn’t recall anything happening.

Then the next morning I woke up and my whole hand hurt, and I couldn’t hold or grip anything – not good when I’m handling a sharp object over the patient’s face. Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt anyone. In the days to follow, the pain spread to different parts of my body and I began to worry. I saw my doctor, and the worry changed to frustrated concern as we began the testing process.

For a while it was believed to be Lupus, but upon further testing the doctors determined it to be Fibromyalgia; which I mention, because apparently that’s common. Fibromyalgia is not the end of the world, but it does take some getting used to: the pain, depression, and exhaustion. The fact that I couldn’t preform my job added to my problems. I needed time, so I took a leave of absence.

Suddenly I felt OLD (I should mention I had just turned forty). I felt like I hadn’t done anything with my life, and now it was over. So I used my time off to write and reflect. Who knew that one would turn out to be the answer to the other? But it was. I wanted to write, like a whole novel. And I wanted it to be young adult, which I’d never done. Sadly, my family thought I was just going through a phase. So at first I didn’t feel whole lot of support or understanding.

I struggled a little at first. Then I fell in love with the process it, and my story. I found writing to be therapeutic. Getting lost in words. Creating worlds. I wasn’t in pain when I was writing. I also found that I was good at it. Like I said, that was three years ago; I guess I’m not going back to work. But on the upside, I completed my first novel and got the family support that I needed.

Now, as many of you know, I am working towards publication. And because of what a psychic said, I am confident … well, guardedly confident, that I will be published one day. Don’t laugh. Those guys are amazing. Well, I imagine that they are amazing. I didn’t personally see the psychic, my sister did. Never mind, you can laugh.

Standing out in the crowd

When I was a kid I was immensely shy and reserved. I did what I could to not bring attention to myself -- short of dressing head to toe in gray, to blend into the cinder block walls at school.
Now, it seems like I am constantly doing something ridiculous to draw attention to myself.

One of the more memorable moments that comes to mind happened a couple of years ago. I promised my youngest that I would go to her Halloween parade/party at school. But before I left the house that afternoon, I decided to surprise her and dress up, and I came up with an insane idea of what to wear. I struggled to get the elaborate outfit on, and then drove to the school. I shuffled through the maze of halls to get to her classroom -- of course her room was just about the farthest from the main entrance that you could possibly get.
Ready for the big reveal, I stepped into the doorway.
The room got quiet as they all stared.
The look on my daughter's face was priceless. "Oh god."
Another child asked, "Is that your mom?"
My daughter answered in a tiny deflated voice, "Yes."
There I stood, in full scuba attire: wetsuit, flippers, mask and snorkel. It was my husband's suit from at least twenty years earlier. It was the last thing she would've expected. And even with my fogged up face mask and sounding like Darth Vader as I breathed through the snorkel, she knew it was me.

But the funniest part of the whole thing was that none of the other parents were dressed up. All the uppity moms were lined up with their knitted Halloween/fall sweater vests.
And then there was ME.

Over the years my children have grown immune to my eccentricities, and now it is nearly impossible to embarrass them. Not that I haven't tried.

Zombies...

I entered The Zombified Writing Contest over at Bree Ogden's blog This Literary Life. The contest was to write three sentences with the zombie theme.
I didn't win, but I did get a special mention.

"Whose entry was absolutely hilarious and clever!"

Here's my entry:

Soft music and candle light set the mood as they gazed into each others eyes. “You’ve stolen my heart,” he whispered.
“Sorry, do you want it back?” she replied, lowering her eyes bashfully and holding it out for him to take.

Thanks Bree and D.M.!

Salem and the Stoughton Name

I've always had a fascination with the Salem Witch Trials. I actually enjoyed learning about that part of history. Ancient Greece, not so much. As a kid we even went to Salem, Massachusetts, and visited all the historical sites. So cool!
Imagine my surprise when years later I realized I had married into a name associated with the witch trials. Okay. So, he wasn't really a good guy. But still.
Of course then when I started writing REACH, I had to add that historical element. Write what you're passionate about, right?
And it was really fun doing those chapters.

William Stoughton (July 7, 1631 – September 30, 1701) was in charge of what have come to be known as the Salem Witch Trials, first as the Chief Justice of the Special Court of Oyer and Terminer in 1692, and then as the Chief Justice of the Superior Court of Judicature in 1693. He ruled over the trials with the determination to eradicate all witches from Massachusetts Bay Colony - heavily influenced by his conservative religious convictions.
-excerpts taken from Wikipedia [link above] and Salem Witch Trials Documentary Archive and Transcription Project.

Looking Back

My oldest just started her first year at Community College.
How is that possible?
It's seems like it was just yesterday that we walked into the school, for the very first time. We were there for kindergarten registration and evaluation. Our little girl (who wouldn't be five for a couple more weeks) followed the counselor into the room and closed the door -- not even the slightest hesitation. She couldn't wait to go to school.
After about fifteen minutes the door opened, and the counselor invited us in. As our daughter played in the opposite corner, my husband and I got to sit in the tiny little chairs at the tiny little table.
The counselor smiled and went on to explain the process. "What I do, is ask the child to draw me a picture. I usually get a picture of a pet, their house, their stick figure family, the sun and flowers." She placed a paper in front of us, and said, "This is what your daughter drew."
The picture in front of us was a Diplodocus (dinosaur) jumping on a trampoline. The Diplodocus, floating in mid-air, was in perfect perspective. The counselor was surprised, but we were used to her drawings.
The counselor continued. "Then I ask the child what he/she wants to be when they grow up. I usually get stuff like: doctor, fireman, singer, dancer. I've even had bumble bee. Your daughter said she wants to be a Paleontologist." She smiled. "I didn't know what that was. I had to ask her." She snickered. "Your daughter is ready for school."

At the end of her first week I asked, "How do you like school so far?"
She answered, rather agitated, "It's STUPID! I don't know how to read yet.

No More MSG

There's something about chinese restaurants that brings out the "wild" in my family. When I say family, I guess I really mean me. There's the time I flicked the fortune cookie -- like a paper football -- and it hit my daughter right between the eyes. That was the funniest thing I've ever seen. Her head went flying back and the fortune cookie smashed into a million pieces. Don't worry, she was okay.
Then there was the time the bench seat had REALLY springy springs, and my oldest would not stop bouncing. I mean REALLY bouncing. She was gettin' some air! After repeated requests to stop, I shifted in my seat, to bump hip to hip. Well, I happened to catch her on the up-swing ... and she landed on the floor next to the table. Again, we all laughed so hard that we nearly got ourselves kicked out.
Last night we went out for chinese. I came back to the table with a plate of jello, and both my girls giggled. One handed me a straw, and said, "Do it!" while my husband shook his head.
Why is it that kids love the sound of flatulence? Jello-farts are the best.

I'm not a loser anymore!

Remember that contest I mentioned? Sure you do. It's right over there ---->

Well. I won third place!
This is sooo great, because I was going to query the awesome Suzie Townsend just as soon as I tweaked my synopsis [tweaked = finish], and now I get to work with awesome intern GEMMA COOPER!
I am super-duper excited!
Can you tell?
I've never won anything like this before!
I can't stop using the exclamation point!