truth is stranger...

C.J., only a few minutes old...

so my nephew is home, keeping his mum and dad awake but bleary-eyed. chatted with my brother yesterday, and he sounds pretty besotted...

a few pics of that little guy, as it was such a thrill to be there right after the big moment. a new life, entering the world, so full of possibilities and great joy...

I think by now he was sick of the flash... but such a charming fellow!

but life is always changing. always something coming along to remind me that there is more than one side. the day after my nephew was born, I found out one much beloved has cancer.

yeah. the big C. for two days we were in limbo, not knowing how serious the diagnosis. waiting for cat scan results; it sounds like something out of one of my books...

I've written about cancer; Harry Liddle in Drop the Gauntlet has a brain tumor. Maddy Callahan in Through the Glass suffers from leukemia. the research done, and I know the odds, not always great. this time, I purposely didn't look up a single fact. not out of denial or a want of ignorance, but because cancer comes in three varieties.

a) easily treatable

b) treatable with some (or a lot) of difficulty

c) uh, not really that treatable at all...

until we knew the skinny, I just wasn't going there. no use getting my knickers in a twist until the report was in...

and... the prognosis landed between a & b. it hasn't spread, is quite aggressive, but localized. no chemo or radiation will be utilized at this time; the tumor will be frozen, meds and procedures ongoing for the next two years. not so invasive, which is really good, but we're not kidding around. this is serious stuff, but maybe, just maybe it will be beaten.

someone I love to death, and yet, helpless. I'm helpless, nothing to do but pray and wait. and realize that babies arrive, so lovely, but people leave. heck, we're all going. nothing to do about that. and I write about that stuff ALL THE TIME. angsty, melodramatic (to a point, thank you) hoo haa, people lives in turmoil, blah, Blah, BLAH...

my brother, his son and me, all looking pretty darn pleased. well, the big people at least...

but, I fully admit, I write about what I know...

during these couple of days, waiting for news, someone close asked if this was going to be novel fodder and I chuckled. family members are always saying to me, 'oh, if you ever need an idea for a book, just ask...'

this won't be hitting any immediate project, as I have the next few books already somewhat sorted. but the emotions of waiting, wondering, hoping, knowing the news might be, well, more in the c category... that will resonate for a long time to come...

two happy clams... I can't tell you what a joy it was to share that time with my brother, his wife, her folks and a new baby, taking such treasures for the glory they are...

in the meanwhile... there is a nephew and his parents to spoil, a loved one to cherish, editing to attend to (which I should be doing about NOW) and the blessed souls within my own four walls to appreciate. and the notion that no matter how floaty my mind can get, usually what's real is far beyond my ability to conjure.

and maybe that's a good thing...

post ABNA wrap-up...

well, ABNA 2009 has come and gone. I happened upon it via Createspace in January, and felt the urge to enter...

(very long post...)

the biggest obstacle for me was the pitch. with some great eyes behind mine, it came together, and once that was sorted, getting my manuscript in shape was already in progress. for some reason it was the pitch that gave me the most heebie-jeebies...

anyways... once that was done, manuscript fine-combed and double spaced in TNR in the correct size (11 or 12, I can't recall...), then it was going through the helpful video shorts, full of bits that aren't in the rules. little pieces, that of course I can't recall now either. (it was four months ago!) but those tutorials were useful.

now, I should say this was my first contest. with that, I enjoyed it, especially the first month. five weeks actually, from entering to the quarter finalists being announced. nothing to do but ignore it, until that date arrives...

then, it gets busy. according to the rules, reviews offered on the excerpts were going to count towards moving on. however...

the winner, James King, garnered 5, count them, FIVE reviews as a quarter finalist. I believe he accumulated 8 by the end, and seeing some folks in the quarters had well over 50, I'm inclined to believe those customer reviews were...

not necessarily necessary.

but a great addition because that aspect made the contest interactive... you felt engaged (and could get friends and family involved if you like...)

that interaction was a part I really enjoyed. I read quite a few excerpts, and it took a bit for me to feel like I knew what I was doing in leaving a review. as I read, I knew in my gut if it was a 4 or 5 star, and let me say that there were some I began reading and just couldn't get through. I tried to review all that had a NANO connection, otherwise I stuck to general literature, my preferred genre.

maybe the reviews didn't count towards progressing, but it was nice to get feedback! that meant so much, because it's through comments and critiques that we get better at writing.

I had NO IDEA how I would do, and when I made the quarters, I was pretty pleased. I knew September Story was a pretty solid tale, and having read other excerpts, I felt I was okay to be there. for a month I was checking my page daily; any new reviews? reading the threads, getting to know the other entrants, personalities and boy, were there some interesting folks! mostly I loved being around so many WRITERS!! that was priceless, and I felt so at home...

then, the semi's approached, going from 500 to 100... good grief! I had no idea how I'd do, feeling like I could make the top 250, but 100? I really felt...

nervous. all right, scared. I mean, let's not beat around the bush. I wanted to move on. who didn't? it took all day for Amazon to update the quarter finalists, and I think all were expecting the same when they announced the semis...

but to our great surprise, early (well, it was for me, living in Pacific Daylight Time) that morning came the announcements. and I was on that list.

big deep sigh... looking back, that moment is huge in my burgeoning career. in that, out of probably 5,000 entrants (Amazon still isn't saying how many people entered), I had a manuscript worthy of being in the top 100...

that will resonate with me for a while. why? because I have so little idea if what I write is any good. insular, that's me. and it's one thing for family and close friends to say my writing is nice, but for professionals to offer that opinion...

well, yeah. it meant a great deal.

so, having reached that level, it was time to get serious. serious about realizing my chance of making the top three was like the Niners getting to next year's Superbowl.

uh, not very realistic.

there were some FANTASTIC excerpts in the top 100. work that made me go... WHOA! to be in that company was really humbling, made me smile too. there we were, all knowing only three would move on, and while there were excerpts I wished had advanced, the decision had been made. I read more, reviewed some great pieces of literature, books I hope to see on the shelves or self-published one day. engaging manuscripts, really fine writing.

again, being able to access excerpts is one of my biggest pushes for this contest. there they are, just download and read! leave a review if you like, or find another. participate in the threads, or not. it's all what you make it...

then came the 6th of May. the day the finalists got 'the calls'...

that day came and went for 97 people, of which I was one. in fact, no one called our house that day until 6.30 PM, someone for Jay...

and then, for me, it was done. but what a ride!! now, a few weeks later, James King has been voted by Amazon customers as this year's winner, his novel Bill Warrington's Last Chance to be published by Viking next year.

this contest is only in its second year, and I expect changes will be enacted. I'd like to see it made more clear whether or not customer reviews really do matter, as many semifinalists had less than 5 reviews, a few with only 1! also, those PW reviews...

well, many not much more than a synopsis, and in the rules they are stated as the 'prize' for all quarter finalists. what good is a prize that reads as a book review, or even worse, slams the excerpt so hard it might as well have dropped it from a 50 story building?

also better policing of the forums for disruptive forces would be appreciated.

otherwise, a contest I would enter again, if circumstances call. (meaning if I have no agent...) the camaraderie was fantastic, great folks truly interested in the art and craft of the fictional written word. now, as I said, this was my first contest. maybe I'm talking out my butt, but I really had a good time. the quarterfinal round was the most difficult, trying to be patient, but once past that, it was just gravy.

I know I was fortunate, getting so far my first time out. pretty darn... lucky? blessed is more like it. but it was what it was, and now my manuscript sits in Penguin's hands until the end of June. might I get a call, might someone there want my novel?

well... we'll see. if they do, I'll be sure to let you know... :)))

Baby!

I have a new nephew....

(she does a happy dance, then falls on the fllor beocuase she's sto tireD!!)

I'm leaving that line as typed to show just how loopy I am!!

I'm drinking loads of tea, so I can be hyphenated, no caffeinated. something....

so, last night I drove to Sac at 7.30 PM, hung out until a little after midnight. only two hours up, and my SIL was not feeling so great, but pain relief was coming...

however, baby boy wasn't so eager, so I drove home, got three hours of sleep, made 2 PBJ's for Bob, took a shower, then headed back north.

just as I went to leave, brother texted... SIL was at 9, he was expecting the baby in an hour...

a little more aware, having had three kids, I only drove, morning traffic not a problem, and baby arrived shortly after I did... :)))

C.J., a little over 7 and a half pounds, no hair but great big blue eyes and so adorable!!

pics soon, once the new mum and dad have posted their own, but I'll add one (cropped) of my and my brother, both of us looking a bit goofy. he didn't get much sleep either!

exciting times in my family!

can I go to bed now???

updated at 6.46 AM 27 May... James King is the winner of ABNA 2009 with his novel, Bill Warrington's Last Chance... well done James and congrats to the other finalists and my fellow semi finalists... :)))

another road trip...

but this isn't to collect wayward children. this is to welcome someone new into the world...

within the next 24 hours, probably less, a family member will arrive, and I'll be taking off pretty soon to be there when it happens...

been waiting on this for a bit, 9 months give or take a few. can't wait to post an update...

in the meantime, Bob, the girls and I took in a movie this afternoon. Star Trek is truly a great action flick, and I'm not even a Star Trek fan...

well, not the original series. DS9 and Voyager are fine, and I can sit through later season TNG. especially once the cast has collars. uniforms without collars is like Voyager without Seven of Nine. pretty...

well, not so wonderful. but this movie, okay. this was GOOD...

no more William Shatner. uh, yeah. that's really about it. fabulous visuals, intriguing story, although the villain was lame. (I say that with the backing of my family and as a writer. you need a good bad guy...)

but it's overlooked, because mostly this was the set-up for future films. introduce the characters, and what introductions! Simon Pegg as Scotty... oh goodness but he should have had more screen time...

so, not much writing going on, however.... I did edit this AM as Thea slept. and slept and slept. that girl, off school (or on even) boy can she sleep! I plowed through five chapters of Through the Glass, and depending upon when I get home tomorrow, I'll do some more.

unless I'm holding a newborn. or sleeping...

I really shouldn't post at 2 AM...

but when Bob's sawing logs and sleep is elusive...

you'd think, after the day I had yesterday, I'd be solidly out as well. Thea's home, for a couple of weeks, and it happened as usual in my life, by the seat of my pants...

see, she's just finished exams, has two weeks off until her summer classes begin. she's completing her GE classes at the JC this summer's break, and we weren't supposed to see her until the beginning of August for only two paltry weeks...

then, yesterday, as she and I were chatting, it hits us... I could just go collect her for the next fourteen days...

and that's what I did. Bud unfortunately has his exams this coming week, so he's stuck north. sigh... but at least for the next fortnight, I have 2/3 of my brood under one roof!

it was a lot of driving, yes, that's true. fast driving, once I cleared Fairfield, in which Thea and I decided last night upon returning to the Bay Area, that EVERYONE in California lives in Fairfield (some bizarre Bermuda Triangle of clogged motorway that is nearly always slower than snot!), and not only do they all live in Fairfield, they all live there IN THEIR CARS, making for sluggish driving conditions...

because the run-up to the Benecia Bridge was also a haven for everyone under the sun, once I had taken the I-505 exit, it was time for some speed. not sure if one can be given a ticket long after the fact, but while the posted speed limit on I-505 and I-5 is 70 MPH, I was doing WELL over that, and made it to my offspring's flat in a goodly time, letting the tunes carry me there...

we had dinner (it was 4 PM by the time I arrived, a late start indeed!) and I got a latte, so I'd be good to get us back home. then petrol, as the car was nearing empty, followed by frozen yogurt, of course. places were DEAD, which seemed strange, in that finals were only over on Friday, and graduation still takes place later this morning. but there was no one at Jon and Bon's, the yogurt shop eerily quiet, only a few at pizza, roads strangely smooth for the time of day.

maybe everyone really was in Fairfield...

and now, for the next 13 days, I have two daughters at home, something that thrills me to my toes. Thea had expressed her anxiousness for finals to be DONE, but hadn't really lamented not getting home, aware this summer would see her busy with film and geography classes. then yesterday, as she was getting ready to get to the store for some food (as she'd been too busy studying for finals to grocery shop!) it was a light, hitting us both...

well, why don't I just pop up there (as much as a three hour drive is popping anywhere...) and bring you home?

yes, she still doesn't drive, a skill/pastime/ability of which I am rather fond...

with 3/4 of a petrol tank waiting in my car, off I went, tea in a travel mug and Birkenstocks in the back seat. I have to wear trainers for long drives, but it was going to be warm up north, and once I was at their place, off came the shoes and socks, feet slipped into comfy Arizona birks. I've had this particular pair for AGES, this style my favourite. a pretty magenta suede, and they stayed on my feet, even for the drive home. which was NOT overly fast, well, at least not until I sailed back over the Benecia Bridge, daughter in tow.

it's odd, having one's grown children at home. Thea's 20, and the last time she was here, back in March, I was busy writing Alvin's Farm. this short holiday will only see some editing in the AM, while she's sleeping, then time for the two of us. I was also writing in January, when she was hanging out over the Christmas break; poor duck, seems I'm always writing when she's home. right now it's a slow period, in between novels, end of the contest, beginning of summer. a very good time to pluck an eldest child from her college domicile, and let her have a few weeks of R&R, cooking what she likes (she's great with soups in addition to other things!) while I simply enjoy her presence.

these children; they grow too fast, are here, then gone. wasn't I just a little over her age, having three kids in four years? where does the time go?

(I know... lost while stuck in traffic in Fairfield, California....)

danger zone

ta loves for all those comments. it's a brutal thing, on occasion, or sometimes or even more than I want to admit. writing; the danger zone...

(heads-up, a really long post...)

I love that Kenny Loggins' tune... rocking to it right now, cranked to 11. I know I'm risking my hearing, well, maybe it's already shot. our generation, the Walkman/iPod gang with headphones and earbuds tucked in tight, and while I love music, I'll be paying for that abuse in the coming days. as long as the hearing aids are as useful as an iPod, that's all I ask...

so, writing, when the writing seems a perilous task, oh, I love the word peril too. hazard, courting something that's on the edge, out there, where few tread. although it seems like there are a lot of writers out there, only a handful are where we'd like to be...

published...

now, I do have a book published. but I'd like to have more, and am searching for an agent, an editor, a solid foot more than in the crack of a door. we all are, or most of us are. from my contest experience as a guide, we're all hoping for that contract, that offer, that shot...

there is self publishing, and I think that will, in the long run, be a viable method. it's a new world we're in as writers, our generation, no matter age, stepping into uncharted territory. that path is out there, and a HEY of a lot of work. while Drop the Gauntlet was published by FEP International, it's a small house where the onus of marketing falls upon the writer.

and if you know me, well... not much marketing going on here right now. overwhelmed by the ABNA contest and my life in general, I'm not really a sterling candidate for self-publishing poster child of the year.

I want an agent, an editor because I NEED them. I'm much better at doing what I'm told, not very good at integrating myself out there. some people can hustle themselves, their wares, like nobody's business. everyone has a gift. mine is butt on chair, spewing words that fall like an English rain.

so, there sits my dilemma. and so, once I get my bum into a querying frenzy, then it will be a matter of waiting, rejections swallowed, then querying again. a cycle that may or may not end up in the acquisition of an agent...

so, where's the peril, the hazard, the DANGER...

it's in the waiting... the wondering... the big looming question of...

what if?

what if it's only rejection?

what if it's only no thank you.

again and again and again...

yeah, that.

gonna blast Eminence Front by the Who. the music always comes, just when I need it...

we write. it's what we do. by hook or by crook, word after painful word, or sometimes they fall so fast we drown. but no matter how it comes, it does. no escape, not really, not in laundry or dishes, school runs or outside employment, relationships or clearing up the dog poo in the garden.

we're writers, agents, editors, self publishing houses and rejections be damned.

and as Pete Townshend sings in the chorus, we're waiting at that bash, smiling folks all around us, all dressed to the nines...

but what's real? how many of us are gonna climb that ladder, rung after rung, going to reach that magical high where sits behind the door is that all golden agent, major publishing house, fame, money, book signings with endless queues...

this is the danger zone...

I don't write because I want to sit on Oprah's sofa. I don't write because I'm hoping to have Bob retire early and we'll move to Aruba. I don't write to settle scores or pour champagne down my throat.

probably you don't either.

but let's be honest, we all would like some recognition. someone to say, 'hey, this really SPOKE to me. I like this. I love this.'

yes, that would be nice. someone besides our most beloved seeing all our hard work for what we've put into it; ourselves, our very blood and soul, body and brains, heart and every last piece of intelligence we can muster.

yeah, that'd be cool...

for me, the desire (and yeah, I'll admit it. I'd LOVE to have all my hard work acknowledged to some degree...) to be a big famous writer is balanced by a family that keeps me firmly on the earth, by a faith that demands my eyes be turned from self.

how in the world is that reconciled with big famous writer???

no clue. this is a daily journey, that degenerates into posts overly long or full of innocuous Star Wars hoo haa or music lyrics or ramblings on tea. but this is ME, who I am on writing. yeah, like a drug, my brain on words is scatty, a melody that makes it hard to take too seriously all that seems to swirl around this occupation.

this occupation of being a writer...

and if this makes little sense, I do apologize. but this is my Achilles' heel, where I wonder if what I'm doing is really for anyone more than myself. I could be out working, wearing a red shirt and standing behind a register at Target or who knows where else, but instead I'm home, typing away, right now at this blog, but usually with a document that is either in the process of being constructed or going the opposite way, deconstruction the theme. and I don't know WHY, or how this came upon me, other than in October of 2006, my eldest child, then 17, told me about NANOWRIMO, that I should give it a go. she doesn't even remember this conversation, but I give her the props, her and my God to whom all this ultimately falls.

then it began. writing, which I'd been doing since I can remember (yeah, I am one of those who'd been poking about with words for ages), fiction pouring through my head out my hands and my first novel (and I mean a FIRST NOVEL) was accepted by a tiny house, and now I have more than a few manuscripts piled up, which is an incredible blessing.

I know this. writer's block is a rarity. but to be honest, and that's the BIGGEST thing with writing, honesty, because if you're not honest, it shows. so, straight up, here I am, writing and writing, and I have no idea if it will ever be any more than DTG. but I can't stop. can't stop writing (obviously, as this blog is way too long already), can't stop listening to my heart, to what calls it to hurl all that has come.

then waiting. hurry up and wait, but it's the nature of this beast, one I didn't imagine I'd be battling. facing a hurdle called the world of publishing, and I don't really know what will happen.

except this: because I accept from where this all comes, I know it will be good.

Romans 8:28, 31...

as the rice cooks....

okay, I usually don't do this, entries more of my own personal blah blah blah that I just spill out like so many rice grains hitting the interior of my small AGA pot....

bubbling away right now in a healthy pat of butter, Bob's dinner in about half an hour... that, and of course, peas....

sometimes he's easy when I ask what he wants for dinner. tonight it's peas and rice. all I had to do was pin Jay down as to what flavour of bullion goes in the water. chicken. there, all done...

so, in the meantime, I'm asking a question. T. Anne got me thinking, she and several other spots that lately have been bandying around this question...

why do you write?

as the rice 'cooks' (I still have to add the water, but I've a minute or two until then...) I'll tell you, or start to you tell you in the shortest way possible (or else the rice will burn) why I write...

cause I'm called to, that's why....

okay, pretty short. and I'm not talking the flowery, springy 'oh because I've been writing since I was two and a half and it's all I live for...' sort of why I write. T. Anne's post today is about the hard, unpleasant sort of writing, what Megan Bostic made an entire video about, what J.C. talked about yesterday, the butt-kicking, bitca angsty part that's not really so swell, and no matter how fun writing is, sometimes knocking one's head against a brick wall would be more enjoyable...

still my answer's the same... because I'm called to...

sometimes it's easy, sometimes is a... real wonder that I'm still sane. like why in the WORLD would I think this is for me?

then, when I stop thinking, it (usually but not always) comes together. like using the force. just take the helmet off Luke and zap those little suckers!

for me it's a faith thing, but I also like my 'use the force' metaphor. cause really, what else am I gonna do? until some agent or editor tells me, 'hey, this is FABULOUS!!!' it's kinda like flying by the seat of my pants, and then Obi Wan tells Luke to just use the force dude...

well, he doesn't say dude, but I'd give a tenner to have heard Sir Alec Guinness say 'dude'.

and actually he did offer Mark Hamill twenty quid (scroll down a bit to see the story) to go away. allegedly...

anyways... I just use the force. sometimes I get zapped in the bum. sometimes I feel like I just blew up the Death Star. most days I just stumble along, trying not to get stepped on by a Wookie. (how in the WORLD did this degenerate into a Star Wars post???) anyways, as the rice cooks, as the world turns, and sometimes it feels like it's turning in ways I REALLY don't get, when the writing and the whole I wanna be an author-thing looks like hoo haa, how do you hang in there?

you tell me yours, and I'll spill mine... :))) (in a post that doesn't happen today, as the rice is nearly done and I really need to stir the peas...)

no promises

well, laptop is nearly back to real footing. I'm missing Word, so any work is still happening on the PC or big laptop, and after using Word 97-03 for a few days, I'm looking forward to getting back to Word 2007...

but I did accomplish a lot this weekend, The Bubble Torture now sitting at a sleek 87K. 87,688 and well, who knows. I have no objectivity, but I do have most of my sites sorted. today's tasking (since I worked all weekend!) is to...

big sigh...

sort itunes...

not getting it full of tunes, that's sorted. we backed up all my files, and they came on just right! only lost a few, maybe less than a hundred, (including Stevie Wonder's Talking Book!!) and Bob is stumped... where are they?

well, no matter. what is going to take much of my time, here and there, are filling playlists...

I live by playlists. not only for personal pleasure, but ideas, fodder, inspiration, the backbone of many a story.

and I mean many...

right now 44 playlists sit on my itunes, a third of those related to manuscripts I've already written. another dozen or so are ideas that will see the light of day, one of these months. the rest are playlists just for me, plus the 'songs for a future idea' which is filling as I type. that was one I didn't back up, and now I'm letting the random setting do the trick.

fortunately a list I hadn't scribbled down was safe in my ipod, ancient thing, but recently updated, and I popped those tunes (for Alvin's Farm) into their playlist last night. what was crazy, with the restarting of my laptop, was that itunes saved all my playlist names. I don't have to type those out again, just need to slide music into each appropriate list.

such is the life of a writer....

but I really did get a lot accomplished over the weekend. it was HOT here in Silicon Valley (pushing triple digits F), but the A/C kept us cool, Jay to a friend's house for pool time, and Bob and I just pottered about, me on various PC's, reading and slashing, he worked out, watched the tube, picked up dinner (Texas Smokehouse BBQ, so good!!) and then poked about with this machine when I needed assistance. I did laundry too, plus there were excerpts from the contest to read, playlists to sort, more than I could get to in one weekend.

sometimes it's like that, a deluge, where last week I was sort of bored out of my mind. but last week I did read a great interview here, Nathan Bransford with S.E. Hinton.

if you've EVER read The Outsiders, Tex, Rumblefish or my fave, That Was Then, This Is Now, check out the interview. she's great, in so many ways...

this is scattered, and I do apologize. been listening to some oldies, from the mid-80's, Love is a Battlefield, Shout, Jeopardy, Nightshift, Solitaire, America, and one not so old...

White & Nerdy. I have a fondness for Weird Al.... eBay is great too...

okay, this would just continue for ages, but I'll quit now while I'm slightly ahead... please, today, back up your important files!! you just never know...

baby gonna shut you down

well, my laptop's ill.

quite ill, and just one month past the warranty... sigh...

before MAJOR surgery takes places, I have saved all pertinent information, and a transplant will occur later today, hoping to extricate 55 GB worth of tunes off my machine, so I don't have to troll through Bob's gargantuan itunes looking for my music...

editing will commence again sometime later, but for now, it's a wait and see sort of operation...

in other news... ABNA finalists were announced this morning, and I encourage everyone to have a look! mystery, YA fantasy and general literature novels were the themes, a nice variety; I'm so pleased Penguin has given readers a choice.

I didn't make that golden trio, but had a ball trying, and recommend this competition, if there is an ABNA 2010. great folks, good reads, and it's a ride, I'll tell ya!

more soon, hopefully from my own notebook. until then, everyone have a lovely weekend!!

feeling better!

thanks to all for the great words; hugs to everyone!!

and yes, I am in a better place. the same one as usual, parked on my hiney in front of the laptop. but for two days I've been editing, and it feels so GOOD!

finished reading To Kill A Mockingbird, and that was a gift. words so well set, perfectly placed, makes me ache, want to weep. now I'm reading what could be called the complete opposite of TKAM, Princess Daisy. complete fluff, but just as well written, simply another jewel in the enormous crown that is fiction.

and seeing it's after 11 AM, a bagel calling to me, chapter 2 will be on tap sooner than later.

so, editing. yeah. having a poke at The Bubble Torture, a NANovel from 2007. it had been well over 117k, and with recent work, whittled down to a tidy 91,000. the progress from the last couple of days has shaved off another 700 words, and I'm under 91; might we see 89? hmm... perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

anything's possible. mostly just clearing up unnecessary bits, and it is so amazing to me how fresh eyes can spot that which is unnecessary, words and phrases in need of the bin.

after this, not sure. ideas have been percolating too, like in the time off, my brain had room to breathe. or maybe it was just the crying fit, clearing out space.

either way, I've got firm plans for July, September as well. two more have bounded into consciousness, and I'm not alone. JC has similar musings simmering away.

makes me feel not so strange. or insane, either one...

I hate PMS

if this is too much information, well, come back in a day or two. I'm sure I'll have added something new by then.

actually, I should be glad for it (PMS, not the fleeing of readers); means I'm not premenopausal yet.

(anyone that was left just bolted, I'm sure...)

okay, so if you're still reading, let's get down to the nitty gritty. threw myself a pity party in the shower this morning; the best place to cry, really, once the bathroom window is closed. (our neighbors are pretty close, didn't want them thinking I was having a complete breakdown.) you can cry, wipe your eyes, blow your nose and not care a WHIT because the water's coming down like rain, washing all turmoil and angst right down the drain. Bob replaced our too-fine strainer with a properly fitting 1 7/8" shower drain last night (as well as playing Mr. Fixit with Jay's loo...) and there will be no more poorly draining tubs for us.

tears yes, but at least the water does go down correctly.

it's only one day, one small day where I feel like a total bitca. colours the work (in that I'm not DOING any, now am I?) and makes me feel helpless, out of control, at the mercy of some maelstrom not of my own doing. I mean, if I'm gonna pitch a fit, at least I'd like to hurl it with some manner of my own person.

or maybe not. maybe it's better to have a good, out of left field weep in the shower, everyone gone (Bob took Jay to school this AM, bless him!) and by the time they all return later today I'll be human again. what's really awful is yesterday was Mother's Day and I had a lovely day, then wake this morning feeling like Idi Amin.

(we watched Stripes over the weekend, oh my goodness, what a fab flick! when Bill Murray's getting ready to free his wayward companions in what was supposed to be the Czech Republic, they ask who's there... Idi Amin, he responds. where is that kind of intelligence in throwaway comedies in Hollywood today?)

yeah, I felt that miserable this morning. maybe it was PMS and no tea? maybe it was facing every year our household becomes smaller. maybe it was the Red Sox beating the Rays last night, but now having had some tea, having perused blogs and read news and listened to some tunes then spewing here, I feel better.

yeah, I really do. thinking of the mud wrestling scene in Stripes does it too. the late John Candy in a ring with mud and ready to rumble women; he really was a lean, mean, fighting machine, in a manner of speaking...

big loud waves

that same white foam was captivating yesterday! all pics from 24 April, 2009...

went crashing into my head yesterday, clearing out some unwanted hoo haa. all I needed was the beach...

(idea further down, one that needs some feedback, if you don't mind...)

sat on a huge rock, resting my feet on another, as the tide came in and out, waves nothing like those from a few weeks back, but enough that the white foam swirled around me, and I had to adjust my backpack, so it didn't get wet. I brought it along, carrying paper and pen (and my sunhat which deftly went on my head within minutes of parking my butt) but it lay unused, as my eyes took in those ever changing waves, rolling and crashing, the roar such beauty to my ears.

sand in Capitola is chocolate brown, smooth, but when covered by the white foam one's eyes are taken in by the light reflecting, over and over.

not quite blinded, but certainly noticed, and then it runs back into the sea, sometimes catching on itself, curling inwards. then I'd look to the water, see a rolling movement coming towards the sand; some waves were small, some to the point of bringing the foam again to my sitting place.

my feet rested on another rock, but all around me, for seconds, was water, water and white bubbles that precluded me from moving.

I stayed there an hour, getting a small sunburn on my forearms; I should have thought to roll up my sleeves a bit. at least my head was protected; I have VERY thin hair and would have burned the top of my scalp for sure! I sat there, watching surfers head to the ocean, or return from a run out, a few folks just out for a walk. mostly it was me and water, the waves, the rumble of huge ribbons of wave that broke over itself, curling along the shore, tumbling over and over and over...

all I could have needed, more really. some days I go, take the camera, snap WAY too many shots and only be amazed at the grandeur. some days I go and...

...it HITS me. I think it's the proximity, being so close. from up high, you miss that sound, so enormous, reaching down deep. miss the spray, miss watching an element turn in on itself in a rhythm that beats like my heart. I love the water, love the ocean, can't begin to convey what it does to me. not sure why, like falling in love perhaps? why do you love the one you do? chemistry, passion, humour, honesty, attraction... whatever it is, that's how I feel about the tide reaching the land.

similar foam that caught my eye, and another wave is building out in the water....

so... I came home quite refreshed, and glad for it! didn't do any work upon my return, and won't really attempt much today, but I do have an idea that I'm going to incorporate over at the website, and will put here on the sidebar of my blog. please feel free to either have a poke, leave me your thoughts. Bob thinks it's a good idea, but does need some qualifying.

it's the Postcard Club...

since DTG is really only available at this point via the web, I'd love to hear from anyone whose picked it up... to send them a postcard. it might be from Capitola, Santa Cruz, SF or one of the places we visited in the UK. of course this means they'd have to send me their address, but if someone's willing to do so, the least I can do is send a little piece of snail mail...

better than sending a real snail, you know...

now, there is more to it than that. I have a few manuscripts that aren't really going to see the light of day (don't we all?). one of my fave bands, R.E.M., had a perk for their fans ages ago (not sure if they still do it!) that at Christmas, they'd send a 45 single to anyone in their fan club. it was all sorts of songs over the years, including covers of Wicked Game, I Will Survive and Have You Ever Seen the Rain?, in addition to various Christmas tunes, or just their own odd little ditty (my fave is Where's Captain Kirk?)

now, I love singing, but I'm a writer. ('nuff said!) what I'm thinking is that depending on how this writing gig goes, I'd love to self publish some of my, for lack of a better way to put it, lesser works. manuscripts that aren't really ready for the big time, but still my babies that have a voice, deserve to be read. it probably won't happen this year (in that it's already May) but maybe in 2010 if you're in the Postcard Club, at Christmas into your snail mail box will pop a book.

looks like it could be a postcard... such beauty along the California's coastline...

yeah, a book. I have a few titles already in my head; Through the Glass, Over the Rainbow come to mind. I guess what I'm getting at is sharing some of my work with those who appreciate my genre (women's fiction), who might have already picked up DTG and whatever comes next. this probably won't happen every year, and the qualifier is that as Bob said, it could get unwieldy.

not that I'm expecting my writing to approach anything that might be, well, unwieldy (except for the length of blog entries), but on the website I'll probably pick a number that would be appropriate, the first X amount of Postcarders would get a book.

now, if you're still reading (and bless your heart if you are!) and think I spent too much time in the sun yesterday (hat or no), this idea hit me in the middle of the night. I woke from a dream that provided me with if not a new idea, at least a killer title (which is over at the sidebar under writing timeline) and as I poked about on the ABNA threads (of which one was really vitriolic, and made me wonder about people and their proclivity to anger and malice) this idea of, well, basically giving away books spread and I returned to bed, my head full of it, and other things.

(one being why are some folks just so darn intent on stirring up trouble?!)

again, if you're still with me, well, this is what happens when I'm not working, either writing or editing. I blog. all the time. and spew thoughts that really need other POV's.

if you have one, please offer it. no matter what your feelings are, I promise to not get snarky or downright rude as was happening last night.... writing, like life, is a journey, always learning something new... I like to take all things as a way of moving me along on this road, and Happy Mother's Day too!!!

update at 12.53 PM... one commenter (ta so love!) offered the idea of PDF'ing manuscripts... that might be the way to go, or not tell anyone they might get a copy and let it be a surprise. (although faithful readers of the blog would have a heads-up... hee hee...)

verbosity

been blogging like there's no tomorrow this week. like I'm gonna miss something if I don't happen to put it down here...

maybe I need to get to some real work, no?

uh, no. feeling like my brain's mush, and I have a few ideas why.

thanks to all for the lovely comments; the semi's was a gift, like this whole bucket of worms (or is it words?) and in a week the top three will be named. there's a thread where the rest of us out of the running have been hanging, and a couple of names have popped up, authors I wasn't hoping to see there...

I hope they are pulling my leg, but if not, I'll hunt those folks down, and will give those novels a nod when the top three have been revealed.

in the meantime... I went to the write-in yesterday and frittered away two hours on the internet. the last few days I have felt utterly unmotivated. before the call didn't come, and I think it's a post-novel wipe-out that built over the last two months.

big languorous sigh... I had planned to pen Belated in April since last autumn, but Alvin's Farm slipped through in March, and between that and the contest and Jay's prom season closing up on Saturday, I am feeling like toast mentally. dead, dry, burnt with no Nutella, Marmite or jam.

actaully, I was never a big Marmite fan; what an intersting concotion!! however I do love Nutella...

but not even a wide swipe could revive me. (well, maybe it could...) I'm thinking today I'm going to take a drive over the hill, hit Capitola, go to Gayles and revel in a latte, something yummy, being close to the beach. I grew up in the middle of the Sacramento Valley, hours away from the ocean. somehow that element lifts me, even if I'm only sitting in a cafe a mile away.

I know this is temporary. next week, heck, maybe even tomorrow, I'll be pulling up some poor document, start the reading/editing process. I did look over Belated, the last real bit of work I accomplished. the first 5-6 chapters are, well, breathless. then it settles some, and I was so dang GRATEFUL! (thought that whole thing was gonna suck all the air right outta me!) been trying to be more deliberate with the beginnings of books, not cram every living last thing in; Belated needs some work in that department. the fight scene between the MC and his nemesis really is pretty good, if I can brag a minute. neither man is very, well, physical, and the blood isn't drawn so much with fists as with verbal arrows.

that's chapter 18, 19, nearly at the end, so yeah, by then I'd gotten my head around that sucker. anyone else find a book really comes together halfway through; characters are finally gelling, the pace is apparent, settings familiar and sometimes it begins to write itself.

if nothing else I learned that TIGHT plotting might not be for me. the beginning was so well wound that I wondered if anyone in it was able to breathe. again, a lesson learned.

and, isn't that what all this is about? I love to write, but what I learn about myself along the way... good grief! that wasn't in the cards...

(or was it?)

no snails

peas! Bob's been very attentive to them... all pics from 7 May 2009

well, only in passing. in that Bob put some snail killer around his peas last night. the plants have spouted so nicely, and he thinks our front yard visitors have back yard cousins looking for a nibble.

the only pics today are of said peas, and me, in what is to be my first and most likely last Myspace pose. not sure what made me take pics of myself, other than to show off my green t-shirt against the yellow shirt. wearing my John Steinbeck tee, which says...

I guess there are never enough books.

can't put it any better than that, why I write, and thanks Mr. Steinbeck, for clearing it up.

self portrait...

as for other bits... no calls yesterday received from Amazon, so I am a semi finalist only. which is fine. (she says with a deep breath after a day and night to let it sink in...) really. out of 100, only three will advance, and just to have gotten this far really blew me away. now my manuscript is in Penguin's hands until the end of June, then all rights revert back to me. in the meantime I'll polish that baby, work on a few others, not take any more Myspace pics (I don't even HAVE said account, or a Facebook, either one, only a daughter who takes pics of herself and friends at the drop of a hat!), keep an eye out for snails that happen to rumble through the small garden plot and keep one ear to the ground for a coming wee one. not mine, thank you very much, but my brother and his wife are due nearly any day. I may not be a ABNA finalist, but I'm gonna be an auntie very soon.

the dust along the cement is to make snails think twice. they are fine in the front garden, but beware of treading too close to the peas, my friends...

and yup, that is more than fine with me! :)))

you just do as you're told

right near our front step, he's getting a bit too close to my home! all pics from 5 May, 2009

more snails. yeah, disgusting. the baby ones, however, are cute.

in a slimy, really hope I don't step on one sort of way...

I have never seen baby snails before today!!

today they were out in force, even upon my return. so I snapped away, and am writing a blog about it.

three of them, leading to the driveway...

about snails, and how I'm feeling about the work.

hey hey hey... you didn't think I was snapping snails for my health now, did you...

ever hear Tower of Babel by Elton John? I've been listening to that song since I was, well, really young, around 10 maybe? I had a lot of older cousins that lived nearby, and I'm sure that's where I first heard it. Captain Fantastic came out in 1975, when I was nine. those cousins, all teenagers back then, walked on water I'm sure and I've been listening to that LP a lot lately. this AM, just minutes ago, I heard it again, and boy, does it hit more than a few nerves.

like stepping on baby snails. not what you want to be doing at all, but sometimes there they are, and you can't help it.

he's heading to the grass...

like writing; you have a manuscript, and my goodness but it's burning holes in your fingers.

I have a few that are in a pretty good shape. and more than aren't. :))) with the contest, I've been thrown into a world of writers, a place I've never really previously been. my world, as you read of, is family, kids (although they seem to be far and few between these days), snails (but only recently), TEA, music, laundry....

that's where I've been living for years. all this talk of writing, manuscripts, and then.... novels, books, agents, editors, self publishing...

good grief! where's my shell???

tucking myself away, that's what I'm better at; lived in the Yorkshire countryside for a decade, a small tight circle similar to the snails making their way across the length of concrete to the grass. all they know and they're happy as, well, not clams.

as snails. or sheep, munching away on grass, heads down, looking for the next blade.

these snails found lots of grass... yeah, similar to sheep, in a manner of speaking...

blades; writing is a pretty sharp one, or maybe it's the nature of the business that I'm confusing with the work. there is a difference. have a look at Bitter Fingers, another tune from Captain Fantastic...

I've been trying to get to grips with this 'writing thing'; what in the HEY does it mean? I didn't do this for any other reason than my eldest child, then only 17 (although she's been 40 since she was nine years old), basically said, "Mom, you REALLY need to do NANO."

she's shorter than me, but quite persuasive. (probably was looking down at me, as I was sitting drinking tea at the time) and the funniest thing, which I only learned this past weekend hanging out with her, is that she doesn't even REMEMBER telling me this!!!

didn't stick with her, but it sure did with me. so I did. I wrote a novel in November 2006, because my daughter told me to.

and now, two and a half years later I'm taking pictures of baby snails, listening to The White Stripes and Elton John, trying to sort where in the world this is going. this blog post, for starters, but also this, this...

this snail, much like this post, unsure of his destination....

train... I have no idea where this writing train is headed. back to Elton John, Tell Me When The Whistle Blows... I'd like to just write, drink some tea, maybe do some laundry (but no ironing!). last night I colored Jay's hair, as she's getting ready for the prom. and yeah, for some reason, she needed her hair dyed. wrapped in one of my old haircutting drapes, we turned her chocolate brown tresses to red-hued brown. part of being a mum (especially when one has a background in cosmetology) and that's fine.

just FINE! all I've known for twenty years. like those snails, crossing my sidewalk, all they know.

but... (you knew that was coming!) Jay has one more year of school. then she too is off for college, somewhere in this vast great state. and then, I'm really home alone, which is lovely. the A/C guys last week were unobtrusive, but having my house to myself yesterday was bliss. I do love it. like a snail I am, except that snails don't write.

oh! there it is.... how much did you have to slog through, and I do apologize. I am not a snail, because snails do not write.

baby snails that don't write, but they do hide well.

Captain Fantastic isn't volume leveled to where Icky Thump sits, and so as I go from The White Stripes to Elton John I am constantly adjusting the levels. I'm not a snail, maybe more like a butterfly. breaking out of this shell, this cocoon, trying to figure out how to go from the ground to the air...

and I have no idea. is it via queries and endless waiting for what will most likely be rejection?

is it writing words that spill like nobody's business...

is it dyeing my daughter's hair every six weeks because she used permanent hair colour? (uh, I can tell you right now the answer to that is NO.)

he probably doesn't worry about permanent hair colour vs wash-out...

well, it's nearly 8 AM. about time to wrap this up, get on with today's work. not sure what that will be, but something, because I am a writer. I don't know where that's gonna get me in the long run, but I'm not a snail. I'll always be a mum, I'll always love God, Bob and tea, The White Stripes and Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy.

Someone Saved My Life Tonight is my favorite song on that album, by the way.... and as it ends, I turn down the speakers, as Meg White's voice comes over, with St. Andrew (This Battle is in the Air). it doesn't get any more honest than that...

300 M.P.H. snail blues

Monday morning in California... all pics from 4 May 2009

the title is what happens when I listen to the White Stripes after cropping pictures of what was sitting on my front walkway this morning.

we had a wee bit of precip yesterday, bringing out the small shelled creatures that seem to glam onto any bit of moisture they can manage to find in California.

not a very large thing, but oh my, an icky thump if you land on him...

we had TONS of them in the UK, really pretty disgusting. here in Silicon Valley, they find ways of staying alive.

when I left this AM taking Jay to school, there were two slugging along across the sidewalk. ten minutes later, upon my return, they'd reached the grass.

between that and the gorgeous sky, I had to get my camera.

I just love clouds!

thanks to all for the website comments! I did a bit more, and again, if you want to offer your two cents or pence, please do!

edging their way to the promised land?

I had a great weekend with the kids, came home with some pressies; books and chocolate. couldn't get much better than that! the books, Doris Kearns Goodwin's The Fitzgeralds and the Kennedys, and Randy Shilts' And the Band Played On will scratch my nonfiction itch for a good while, and Shilts' tome will offer some research for my next book...

yeah, on the drive up, then the drive home, I pondered a new idea. going to incorporate blogging in this one, and listened to Elton John's Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy as well as Jack and Meg White's Icky Thump (what's playing right now in fact). I'll go between those two records for inspiration.

there will be no snails in this story, however, at least none that make a lasting impression. (unless either Coral or Griffin steps on one...)

trio of snails

yeah, names are set, and I just have to decide how to work the story with the blog entries. spent Saturday AM at the Upper Crust with my bran muffin and latte as the rain began to fall. it rained the entire weekend there, but I had a fab time seeing my kids, having Friday dinner with my sister and her hubby, then to frozen yogurt with my best buddy. the kids and I ate lunch the next day with my folks, then Saturday afternoon was spent at the grocery store, more yogurt, followed by sitting on the couch with Thea hearing about her college catalog, plans for coming terms. she's got about two more years, looking at a double major that she really wants to finish in those 24 months. Bud's got a summer internship with a local TV station, furthering his filmmaker goals.

from my driveway... (where there were no snails today!)

how did they get so old?

okay, 'nuff of that. returned late Saturday night to snails along the sidewalk; didn't step on a single one. the A/C was sorted, but of course now it's a room temperature 60 F outside, and Bob finds it quite ironic that the weather calls for neither the heat or cooling.

no tea for you buggers!

isn't that the way? but at least the snails stay OUTSIDE. if nothing else, I'm not singing the blues about those creatures coming too close to my tea!

R.I.P. Marilyn French... more on that to come...

off for a few...

...to see the kids, maybe someone new too. I'll keep you posted.

in the meantime... if you have a few minutes, I've updated my website a wee bit and would appreciate any and all feedback...

if you feel at all compelled, please leave a comment here or drop me a line...

annascottgraham@gmail.com

putzing around the past few days, as the heater/cooling guys were still around as of late yesterday, and I was crocheting. and tinkering with the website.

tinker tinker...

also came up with another story idea that I will ponder in depth on my drive. I love driving and mumbling to myself, talking out characters, possible scenes.

or maybe I just like talking to myself... hmmm....

well, I'll leave that for another day... have a fab weekend! I know I will, seeing my kids and snacking on some frozen yogurt!!! ooohhh.... am I there yet?

(uh, no, not yet...)