A Little of This, A Little of That

The better part of the last three years have been devoted to REACH: writing and rewriting, learning and networking, querying and submitting, contemplating and, of course, rewriting.
I needed to unplug from social media for a while (for the most part), regroup, and work on my overwhelming To Do List.

1. Clean my house. (I think that dust bunny had teeth.)

2. Clean OUT my house. (Before a producer from the TV show Hoarders shows up at my door.)

3. Paint just about every surface. (I hate cleaning the brushes.)

4. Install new flooring. (Then obsess. NO ANIMAL WILL RUIN IT THIS TIME!)

5. Renovate 2 1/2 bathrooms. (Just. Yuck.)

6. Sell the house. (Which hasn't happened yet.)

7. Find jobs for my husband and I in Florida. (Can't take another NY winter.)

Then there were things not on the list, some crazy, some for pleasure, and the "Oh man, why now?" projects.

1. Install new garage doors. (That was unexpected. While sitting in the family room watching TV one evening we heard a loud bang. The huge spring on our 30 year old garage door split in half, which in turned snapped the heavy wire that makes the door go up and down.)

2. Convince husband to let me spend over $200.00 on surgery for our turtle. He had a double ear infection.

3. Adopt more rats.

4. Come across a good deal on like 27,000 feet of nylon webbing, and think, "I could make dog collars." (WHAT?! Sometimes I really wonder about my sanity. And BTW... this is what 27,000 feet looks like.)

5. Sew lots of dog collars. Which can be found on my new site Greyt Serendipity

6. Read. Read. Read.

7. Experience Reike.

8. Discover the therapeutic powers of writing ...yet again. (I wrote about a traumatic event that happened when I was eleven. I will eventually share it with you.)

So, there it is: the many distractions of life. Thanks for hanging in there.

Another Awesome Contest

Want a chance to win the newly released A TOUCH MORTAL by Leah Clifford?

She is having an awesome giveaway and up for grabs, are five ... yes I said FIVE ... prize packs!

Hop on over to A Touch of Leah to enter.
The contest is open to Canada and U.S. only and ends March 31st.

Good Books and Goodreads

I finally took the time to figure out how to put the books I'm reading
over there -----------------------------------------------------> on the side.

In my search I found Goodreads. I'd seen the name before, but wasn't sure what it was. It looks pretty cool. If you aren't familiar with Goodreads, you should check it out.
Anyway...this is not a very exciting post, just proves that I am still alive, and that I do read. Sorry, no ratings yet. I will say that I just finished HUSH HUSH by Becca Fitzpatrick, and I love, love, loved it!

I can't wait! This weekend I am finally getting around to reading THE HUNGER GAMES by Suzanne Collins.

Cool Agent, Hot Book

Literary agent Diana Fox of
Fox Literary
has a new blog, leaving behind her
Livejournal/Dreamwidth.

She hopes to have more content
at her new site,
and to celebrate
she is offering up an
ARC of Claudia Gray's AFTERLIFE.

So, hop on over and check it out.

Letting Your Family Read Your Work

Over at the The Graceful Doe's Blog she did a post on Why You Shouldn't Ask Your Spouse's Opinion. I've seen this kind of advice before: don't let your family read your manuscript. I understand the reasoning; family members will have a biased opinion for their loved ones, they are excited to see what you've worked so hard on, and they don't want to hurt your feelings.

Well, that's most families.

My oldest (teen) daughter has always been an avid reader. She is excellent with grammar and punctuation, and can offer an in-depth review of the books she's read. Even though I was working with a critique partner, I really wanted a teen to read my young adult novel, and I thought she could be quite handy to have in my corner. I say could, with a grain of salt and a dash of hope, because she can also be quite critical.

In fact, for over a year she downright refused to read it.

At first when I asked, she said s didn't want to because she didn't think I would even finish writing it.

Fair enough.

When I asked her to read my completed and revised manuscript, she quite honestly replied, "I don't think I'm going to like it."

Okay, I know that was harsh. Please don't judge her. Trust me, I'm judging her enough for all of us. Just kidding. We really do have a wonderful relationship.

Then one day she said if I wanted to download it onto her Nook, she would read it. I casually said, "Okay, whatev."

I had to force myself to leave her alone, and not stare over her shoulder. I thought I would literally crawl out of my skin, waiting for her to finish.

Luckily, she is a fast reader.

Thankfully, she couldn't put it down.

But then the brat my lovely daughter didn't say anything. I tried not to push her, coolly asking, "So ... uh, what'd ya think?"

She flashed me a funny smile and sighed. I immediately realized what was going on -- she doesn't like to admit when she's wrong. I kept a straight face and waited. Finally, she said, "It's awesome."

That honestly is a moment I will never forget. It meant so much to me. As did her excitement as she discussed a certain character and that characters conclusion.

So, that's my story. Do you have a story about sharing your work with family?

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.