Happy New Year!!!

Omigosh it's that time of year again, the time for all those resolutions and whatnot. Mine are a total bore this year. Heck, I'm not even being original or anything. I pledge to myself and my jean closet (it's just a regular closet that has jeans in it, didn't mean to make it sound like I had a whole closet dedicated to jeans) that I will lose ten (15) pounds before summer and hang these fat pants back up in the back of the closet where they belong. I also pledge to finish my MS (again). Yes, again. See I thought I'd finished it before but then everything changed during the revision process, and as it turned out, once I removed a whole lotta crap from it, I ended up with a whole new re-write. I sure hope all the changes make it a better story. We shall see.

Well that's it. See, told you my resolutions were boring and unoriginal. I started to add a new agent to stalk but I am so not ready for agent stalking yet. Maybe next year. Right now I'm too busy with the re-write to even have time for cutting out letters in old magazines to send encrypted messages to literary agents. That and the dog chewed the handles off the scissors. Seriously, no joke. They look like they went through a meat grinder. Quite impressive. So what's your New Years resolution? Anyone planning on adopting a scissors eating very BAD dog?  

Dog Gone...CRAZY!

So, I've been MIA for like ever and to those of you who have not decided to un-follow my blog, I'd like to say I appreciate you still being there or um here. Right now I'm trying to Christmas shop, work, wrap presents, write, and in the midst of all of that, I'm trying to become the doggie whisperer. I know I'm not supposed to feel guilty about blogging or not blogging, but sometimes I just do and probably always will. I prefer self loathing from time to time. It gives me an excuse to have wine. Just kidding about that last part. I never need an excuse to have wine.

As some of you may already know, I have a Great Dane. His name is Cooper and he's just turned a year and a half this month. He's so sweet and cuddly, AND he's lost his freaking mind. While I'm trying to write, he stands behind my chair, flipping my ponytail up and down, trying to get my attention. When that fails, he stands behind me, resting his head on my shoulder in some sort of staring contest I'm not even participating in, and I'm not sure how to convey that to him. Casualties are high in the Mckee household. We've lost two high heels which I won't miss at all. Say what you want, they're not natural anyway so no loss. On a sad note, we've lost a pair of Merrell's which was a bad day. Those shoes were like little pillows of heaven strapped to my feet. Sighs.

Aside from the shoes, we've lost two Christmas ornaments, a phone case, and I think he ate a slipper but I can't prove it til tomorrow. I Googled the terrible two's for dogs, and it turns out, they actually have them. Who knew? I'm worried the poor thing may think his first name has been changed to Damn-it. Other times, I can't even form an actual, intelligible word and its really sad when your dog knows you're making crap up. So this is what's going on in my little world. What's going on in yours?

Fooling Around

Okay, so I'm not NaNoing per say. But I decided to take the advice of a friend and just fool around with a few of those floaty things that seem to be captivating my mind during the drive home from work. I was worried that working on something else would take my mind too far away from my current, sometimes eternal looking WIP. And maybe it has to some degree, but its nice to work on something different even if it is just for me. Who knows where the break will take me. So I'm with ya, sort of, just unofficially. Hows it going for you?

To NaNo or not to NaNo?

For me it wasn't even a question. I admire those of you who are taking on the project of writing a 50,000 word novel in a month. I've been working on just one for well over a year. I think I may be a little challenged. I'm not even sure my husband actually believes me when I say I've been writing. To him, writing a novel must take most of your lifetime because it's not looking like I'll be done anytime soon.

I did think about joining in on the fun this November. Maybe writing something else for a whole month could give me a whole new perspective on the old story. But all in all, I know I would simply never have the time to take on such a project. So, I wish all of you lots of luck and I look forward to watching your progress. How do you plan to find the time: starve the children, board the dog, cancel Thanksgiving? I'd love to know. Good luck and Happy Halloween.

Holy Crap!

So I decided after like three weeks to sign into my totally abandoned blog. I. Am. A. Loser. Is it me, or does it seem like someone pressed the fast forward button? Summer is over. No one told me. This afternoon, I nearly had a panic attack in Wal-Mart. There were pumpkins everywhere, and beside them, Christmas decorations and turkeys. What the? Can we not have one holiday at a time, people? Sigh....Rant over.

Wait! Today's blog actually has a purpose. Swear. I bought, SILENCE, the third book in the Hush Hush saga by Becca Fitzpatrick. And then I defiled a plastic turkey and placed a Nutcracker in an awkward position. Er-it may have been the other way around. I don't remember but either way I'm calling it retail therapy. I went from panicked to excited about the whole experience and I just hate that none of you could be there to share in the moment with me. Sad.

And there's more. I'm sure you hoped it was over, it's not. Sorry, but I think you'll be excited about this. I was reading Chuck Sambuchino's blog better known as Guide to Literary Agents because it's AWESOME. And while reading, I came across a new publisher called Entangled Publishing and also an agent that lives close enough to stalk in person. YES! I can't mention her yet in case there may be questioning later. I'm only joking about some of that. I plan to mention her in another blog when I'm a better blog mommy and not so neglectful. For now though, new publishers. How do we feel about them? Are they scary? Do they make you feel like you're settling for less than NY, because you are. But is this a good thing or a bad thing, ya know, to not be so New York?  Please opine.

Well Hello There.

 

So I'm back from my vacation in Bermuda and I'm missing it already. To say that I had a bit of R&R would be putting it mildly. I lounged around the pool all day, sipping lovely little fruity drinks that some tanned guy named Javier kept bringing me. Well okay, his name wasn't really Javier but he didn't seem to mind that I kept calling him that, although, when I tried to use his wash board of a stomach to help out with a little laundry mishap, he failed to see the humor in it. I say what good is a wash board for a stomach if you can't use it to get out a little mustard stain, hum?

On a serious note, I thought I'd die without the computer and my cell phone for eight days. I definitely didn't. Doing nothing seems to come alarmingly natural for me after about, oh, the first hour or so. Disappointing for sure. I thought I'd at least need forty eight hours to adjust to being a complete slug, but it appears my weaknesses are easily reachable. Good to know. Word to the wise if you're planning a trip to Bermuda or even one that involves a very large boat as mine did. Stop after two rum swizzles. I mean it! I ended up a little sideways along the top deck, lost my wallet in the bathroom, and I think I had half a pizza. It was a grand time, and no, I never found my wallet, had to file a lost/stolen report, and was concerned I'd never make it back into my own country without a picture ID. For a minute there, I thought I was going to have to travel all the way to Mexico just to get back into the country. Ah...good times. Now that's a vacation to remember. I do miss my wallet though. I had to cancel everything. I'm waiting for replacement cards, and there was a coupon from the bra and panty club at Belk that needed only one more stamp for a freebie and now its gone. Whoever has my wallet, I hope you end up with a pair of skivvies that give you perma-wedge. Not that I'm bitter just slightly vindictive. 

Moving on past the skivvies, I was able to use some of my vacation getting into one of my characters. Part of my story involves some time out on the open sea. It was truly inspiring to take in the scents and sounds, the air, everything that my character might have felt were she truly there. I hope I can put that inspiration to good use now that I'm back at my computer, but somehow I think experiencing something that surreal can never be written as well as it was felt. Maybe I'll have just one more rum swizzle while I give it a try.

I'll be stalking you soon.

I'm back...

Helloooooo fellow bloggers. I've been away in Bermuda being bad but I am back. Hopefully if time permits I'll have a real post and some pictures out before the end of the week. Hope everyone in the writer/blogging world have been wonderful this week. I look forward to catching up.

Goals. Er....

Goals, we all have them. Reaching them, well, that's quite the conundrum. Sometimes I think its about fear. Like if we actually reach our goals, then what? I've been trying to finish rewriting my MS. I get on a roll then I just back off. It's like I'm afraid to be finished. It's so...FINAL.

Then again, maybe its what's lurking behind the finish line. Literary agents, synopsis's, and query letters. OH MY!

So, I was able to sympathize with my dog, Cooper, today. Strapping young pooch, one hundred and sixty pounds of man puppy. His goal. The bone. The conundrum? The bone was behind the door. Not a real problem you say. Ah, but hold on. The ironing board (literary agent) was behind the door. The ironing board is very scary to man puppy. It makes a loud screeching noise whenever it's approached with clothes (query letters). Apparently ironing board is particular about clothing associations.  Puppy backs away from the door, paws the air, and whimpers in a whining puppy sort of chanting way, hoping to will the bone to puppy. No chance.  Bone is now being held hostage by the damn ironing board, and man puppy has abandoned goals of being respectable altogether. He's spread eagle on the bed in front of the fan, showing his man goodies to the world. My God man, show some decency. This will not be me, people. I'm going to get the bone (manuscript done)  for the man puppy. Hopefully, his moral code will be restored before he winds up as Mr. October. Fingers crossed.

Hum...

I have a new routine. I wake up, grab a cup of coffee, eat a bowl of cereal, sign into blogger, and stare at the screen. I've been doing this since my last post. This time, I thought I'd write something. Seemed like the thing to do since I'm already signed in and everything.

So, I was wondering how many of you actually read the genre in which you are trying to write? Sounds like a crazy question doesn't it? Like come on, of course I'm reading YA. I write YA. Hello. But you'd be surprised at the amount of writer's who don't read within their writing genre. And it's way important. Even more important that writing sometimes. Well not really. But almost.

But all that reading pulls away from writing time. True, but without it, how can you know what's going on in your genre? It's all part of research, and well, (whispers) entertainment. Reading happens to be one of those things that keeps me up too late at night, turning pages, hoping time will just stand still so I can get to the end already. Doesn't happen. I wake up sleepy, stumbling for the coffee pot, mumbling silent little profanities at characters who kept me up too late. But its so necessary. And I get to tell my mother I was up late "working" when she calls the next day. It's a win win. Hey, nobody needs to know I was reading WOLFSBANE until 3 a.m. Let's just make that our little secret. How about you? Are you reading enough material? Are you sleepy. Were you working late last night too? ;)

A Little of This and That.

I cannot believe I just picked up the fall schedules for the kiddos last night. Neither can one of my daughters. She sort of stared at a blank spot on the wall while holding the list of classes in her hand. Her sister waved a hand in front of her face. She blinked but she hasn't really spoken since. We expect the reaction. I've got one daughter who loves school and hates summer then the other who turns into a zombie around September. She just walks around the house muttering unintelligible sounds until June. It's entertaining.

I used to be the zombie, I think. I was never excited about school. Learning got in the way of my social aspirations. I was too busy being the class clown. Funny how things change, and then, Not change. I'm still a clown but now I'm the research nerd, geeking away on my computer, dredging up facts that no one would ever care about but me. If anyone ever went through my hard drive, the Google history would be startling. I could see the computer guy just sitting in front of my laptop, mouth agape while some dude named Ned whistles out a WOW over his shoulder. It would be that bad. Seriously, I once Googled belly button lint. Don't ask. But you should Google it. Very interesting. What's better is that I no longer think I'm alone in the universe of weird TC. No. As I encounter more and more writers, we all seem to be from the same kind of mold. We may be different in ways, but our minds seem to work about the same. I recently joined a critique group. We meet online since we're scattered all over the place, but its so neat to watch as one idea forms, then another, and so on. I honestly think a room full of writers could solve the economical problems in the world right now. Of course, we may end up turning John Boehner into a werewolf and Nancy Pelosi into a hobbit, or vice versa depending on which side of the aisle you're on. It would make for much better news and I bet people would be willing to pay for it. Anyone know of a good incantation off hand? Hum...something to Google later...right after I get back to writing;)

Novel Films Blogfest

So Happy first day of August, people. I can't think of a better way to welcome it than with a blogfest that makes you use your brain when its a hundred degrees outside. Thanks in advance to our host Madeleine over at Scribble and Edit for thinking up such a fun idea. I found out about this a few weeks back, and at the time, I could think of a ton of titles, but now I'm near blank. Should have written them down then. But here are a few that I can remember. I'll post more as they come to me later on. Things happen after that third cup of coffee. I'm still on number two so no miracles. Sorry.

Angela's Ashes
The Importance of Being Ernest
Hamlet
Twilight
New Moon
Eclipse
Breaking Dawn (read the book, will FINALLY see the movie in November)
Pride and Prejudice
Along Came a Spider
Kiss the Girls
The Client
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
Black Beauty
Pinocchio
How the Grinch Stole Christmas
Winnie the Pooh
Charlotte's Web
The Cat in the Hat

I'm sure there's more. It seems there should be. I mean, shouldn't Hollywood get on with it? I could name a hundred books that should be made into movies.What about you?

Oh, and please forgive me for my sporadic blogging lately. Things have been crazy busy. For those of you who have stopped by to read this, I don't deserve you but thank you for being here. Tell me what you've been up to and head on over to visit Madeleine's blog. You 'll be glad you did.

Happy Monday!

Habitually YA

Er-I'm now convinced I'm stuck in the ninth grade. Okay, so here's the story. I go to Sam's, ya know the buy 2000 rolls of toilet paper in bulk store for those of you who may not have one. My husband headed for the tire department and that brought on a bout of clairvoyance for me. I just knew I'd be bored to tears but I blamed it on the smell. Always stick to the nausea claim when looking at tires. It'll get you out of there every time. So, I ended up in the book aisle. No surprise. I grabbed two immediately, one that was on my to-read list, and one that just looked good. Covers do sell. Then I oohed out loud when I spotted the fluffy little flip flop bedroom slippers on aisle 74 (it felt like 74). But that's neither here nor there. We all know how that ended. I made it home with my new treasures, propped up the toesies and began reading my finds. Book one, awesome. It was SHIVER. Loved it. Book two, I'll not mention and that's not because it's a bad book. It's me not the book. I opened it,  read through ten, twelve pages, flipped back, read a word here and there, flipped forward. Sat straight up in bed, searching "what the-." There wasn't a single young adult word anywhere. Then I discovered the problem. It was an adult paranormal romance. Oh! Shakes head. I'm not old enough to read those. Apparently.

I used to read adult everything, even (whispers) non-fiction. I don't even know how this happened but I no longer enjoy much of anything unless it's YA. Well, I do love the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. There's a lot of history and smut. I'm a sucker for both but YA just has a lighter feel. It takes me back to the day, the discovery of new things, all of it. This new read actually mentioned like bills and stuff. Ew. No. So that's it I guess. I'm all YA and I doubt I will ever cross back over. How about you?


 Update for Word Weight Wednesday.

I completely skipped out on Word/Weight Wednesday. Why? Well, I'm up two pounds and down on word count. It's my husbands fault. He wanted pizza for his birthday. Come on, it's pizza. It was good. I'm not even gonna lie. I've been swamped with work. That's the good news and I'm totally grateful for that. So many are struggling in this economy. It's a scary time for all. So if the worst of it is not having the time to exercise occasionally, visit my story, or even  my blogging buddies, whom I miss so much, then I guess I can accept all that while I'm blessed with work. Will be stopping by as soon as I can. In the meantime, tell me what you've been up to.

Um. Owner has been walked.

Okay, so I haven't been posting much the past few weeks. Work has been crazy hectic,which is a good thing and I've been trying to devote my time to characters and revisions. I'm cool with the whole character thing. I feel like I'm dating them half the time, and so far, none of them have broken up with me or even begun that whole its me not you conversation. I'm totally grateful. I mean, when you're own inventions ditch you, things are bad. Like go ahead and fill up the bathtub bad. It's the revising part that makes me cringe and I don't get it. It's not like I'm heading into the office for rectal surgery. It's my story. I know what's going to happen. Er...so most of the time I think I sort of know. Basically the same thing.

So I've been trying the whole outlining thing. Most of the time I write by way of disorganized, chaotic little notes written in various places throughout a spiral notebook. It's always worked for me. Until now. I think I need a better system. And this weekend I wrote a little, pondered a little, and decided to take the dog out at the wrong time. Neighbors were out in their backyard doing the whole family bonding thing on the playground with about 8 or 9 kids. At least it looked like that many. Kids see 150 pound dog. Kids love 150 pound dogs. Dog loves kids. Dog thinks he's more like 10 pounds. Kids run at dog. Dog runs at kids. Dog begins to leap into the air in six foot strides. Kids freeze. Owner of dog rides dog. Owner runs with dog. Owner gets pulled by dog. Picture villains being tied to a horse in one of those old westerns and that was basically me. Owner has no muscles left in her body. I can now hardly hold my arms up to type. Kids? Fine. Dog? Fine. Owner? Not so good. So I thought it would be a great time to hear your strategies for organizing your story. I know some of you have posted about this before. I've read lots of great ideas in the past. Forgive me, but the pain just won't let me remember who, what, when, or where those ideas were. Shrugs. Owe!

Word/Weight Wednesday

Well, I'm down about 4 pounds and I'm seriously considering filing attempted murder charges against Jillian Michael's. The woman is a pit bull with barbells and that shouldn't be possible considering she shouldn't have any thumbs. I purchased her Thirty Day Shred video and began level 1 about 5 days ago. Holy Cow! By day two, I couldn't even sit down without looking like I'd had a stroke or something. I thought about having those handicapped hand rails placed along the walls of the bathroom but I suffered through it. I laughed at those burning quad muscles, actually, it was more like a sob, but hey, I kept moving. That was level 1 people (still sobbing). LEVEL 1! Ack! To be real to you and to myself, I feel so much better, burning muscles aside. It's twenty minutes a day that I can spare and it makes me feel more with it. Alert. And the kids are so impressed when I come stumbling up the stairs after a good workout, looking like a melting ice sculpture. So, if you're exercising, keep it up. If you're not, get up and do it. Just a little a day goes a long way. You'll thank me after day three. Do not address me at all on days one or two. I'm sensitive and I'm not sure I could take what you'll want to say to me.

Now onto words. I've come to a reckoning, a little crossroads in my writing. I've had to admit, out loud, what I did not want to admit. My revisions are not revisions. Nope. Not even close. I'm rewriting and that is a far cry from revising. No wonder its taking me so long. I keep going back into the older version of my story and I'm shocked by how much of it will not transfer over to the newer version. I guess this happens when you change things up a bit, grow a little as a writer. I keep waiting to grow a lot but its not happening yet. It will though. I'm going to shrink my body while I fatten up on skills. I have a feeling one of those things is going to take longer than the other. My husband keeps asking when this story is going to be finished. My reply is usually a snort, followed by spasms of laughter. That seems to be the question I can never answer. How about you? What have you been up to?

Things to Ponder.

I have just cheated my own blog. I've revised yesterday's post and thought I'd throw in something a little more important like what I just found. Our awesome blogging buddy Madeleine Maddocks is hosting a Blogfest over at Scribble and Edit. It sounds like a lot of fun and a little bit of a challenge when you think about it. Head on over there right now and sign up.

Then I found this. It's a great place to go for free exercise videos. Yes, I decided to throw a little aerobics into my mundane life of power walking. You gotta mix things up a bit, and as writers, exercise can fall by the wayside when we're working towards our writing goals. But it's so important that we take care of ourselves. So, with a little help from a free cardio workout in the comfort of your own home, pushing that chair back for twenty minutes is not a big deal. Er, okay so maybe it is. I think I pulled something in my armpit. There is a muscle there. Who knew? My brother suggested I join the gym for support and take a few classes. "In public?" I said. No, no, no. Nobody needs to see me in an exercise class. I have no rhythm whatsoever and I am so glad I took my own advice and stayed in my office. Now I can look like a wet, wounded bird trying to take flight in the privacy of my own home. Thank you little brother. And now you can too. I think we should support each other with our writing but how about our health too. I'm thinking about launching a Biggest Writing Loser group right here on the blog. Once a week, we can share and lean on each other. You can even email me when you're in a drive thru and I'll talk you out of there.I will make you order the apple dippers. I swear I will. What do you think? Word/Weight count Wednesday anyone?

Status

Its nearly the end of yet another week. I've just finished reading City of Fallen Angels. Thought it was the last book in The Mortal Instruments Series. Guess what, its not. Imagine my surprise as I got to the last page. Now I only have to wait about a year for part five. Gah!

I've been writing a lot. I need to take a break and visit everyone's blog, see what you've all been up to. Other than that, I've got nothing. What about you?

One Eye Open.

This is not a book review. Promise.

I'm still in revisions. Most of you already know that. As I've gone through my WIP, yet again, I've been trying to ask myself certain questions. One of them is always about conflict. Is there enough of it? Is it in the right places? Will anyone care? And lastly, will it make a readers mouth drop or cause them to lose sleep? No. No. Maybe. And no. So, now I'm in the masterminding process but I'm not sure I'm being fair to me. You see, several weeks ago the unimaginable happened. (I may have already mentioned this) I had just finished a great book, headed to the bookshelf to put it away and grab one off the to-read shelf when I realized I had no more. GASP! Nothing! Panic button, Hello. Then I remembered the City of Bones (Clare) book I'd bought my daughter for Christmas. After inquiring on its location, I found myself digging it out from under her bed. I blew through it. Moved onto number two and now I'm nearly done with book three, City of Glass. I'm literally walking around my house in a zombie like state with one eye open and have been for the last few weeks now. I'm up half the night reading these books. Funny thing is I never really thought I'd like them. Wrongo. Isn't that how it always is. You have no interest in a book then you read it and it becomes one of your favorites.

Hold on, this is not a book review. I promised.

I've lost sleep because there is so much conflict. Sure, some of it is predictable. Some. But for the most part, I go to bed swearing I'm just gonna read one chapter and the next thing I know its 3 a.m. You should be around when the alarm goes off in the morning. Not pretty. The conflict is on nearly every page. You can't look away. It is that good. So it makes me wonder, could my characters and my story ever hold someone like that? I want to keep people up at night. Its part of my diabolical plan. I want someone to roll out of bed, stare at their disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror and say, "you're weak Mckee" (hopefully they'll insert their name here instead of mine), because they should have put the book down and gone to sleep. They just couldn't do it. This puts a little more pressure in this whole book writing thing doesn't it? I think I can handle it. Flings self from computer chair, careful to fall on dog bed, then stares blankly at the ceiling, waits for death. Out of coffee, heads to kitchen. Coffee in pot has been depleted. Nooooo.....How about you? Is there enough conflict in your writing? Are you throwing everything imaginable at your characters?

 

Progress...

Ever feel like Captain Jack Sparrow when it comes to making progress? I generally do. An entire vicious tribe of revisions just chasing you down.  I wish I could run like that. Totally  hilarious. At the very least, my lot of revisions could be entertained while waiting on progress. I think I could watch him run all day. A true work of art. In case you haven't guessed, my daughter and I went to see the movie last night. Wonderful. If you haven't seen it already, get on that. You'll be glad you did.

In all seriousness, I've been making some real progress. The revisions are running along at a much faster pace than usual. I don't know what's up with that, but all of a sudden, I'm zipping through chapters, well, maybe its more of a stroll but you get the picture. I wonder sometimes if I'm controlling this whole writing thing at all. I mean, sometimes I think I'm at the whole proverbial wheel, but other times I'm not so sure. I bet you've been there in those moments where you just stare at the computer screen and drink cup after cup of coffee only to produce half a word. Then a day or two later, you sit down in your creative lab and the words shoot out of your fingers like flicks of fire from your wrist. My husband usually looks up from his computer to inquire about what on earth I'm writing, to which I reply, "I have no idea, Silence!" He then shakes his head and goes back to ESPN news. Oh, but I'm weird. Honestly though, where does all that come from? How can we be completely blank one second then bursting brain cells the next. Are we normal? If not, we're at least cool, right? So, how about you and your progress this week? Do tell.

Happy Weekend.

Creative Space?

 For those of you who have requested pictures of my new creative space, here you go. I'm so excited. It turned out better than I imagined. The hubbs even hooked me up with XM.

It's amazing how  the creative energies start flowing when you have a space of your very own. I mean, already, the dog has apparently discovered some sort of doggie portal that must lead to a super secret bone heaven with the way he's been digging at the plastic roller pad under my chair. When he's not doing that, he thinks of the many ways he can rest his head on every inch of my desk while leaving  trace evidence of his endeavors by way of slimy puddles of drool. After that, he then tries to treat himself with a coaster snack or wad of paper.

For those of you who may have tuned in last week, the

wad of paper can tend to bring on a whole other layer of issues. Ones that lead to the back yard and his backed up back door. Not pretty. So, the kids are giving me some time to savor the new office. The dog, not so much.

Finishing Touches.

The office is all done except for new carpet which would be great.  Sometimes, you can't have everything all at once. Like my mother used to say, "beggars can't be choosers." I was definitely a beggar needing a new office so I'll take this one any day of the week. Having my own space is awesome.

I was able to sit last night with some peace and quiet and take a long look at my WIP. There were a few things that stood out to me almost instantly. I'm sure I missed more than I found but one thing I truly missed was the description in my earlier version. I've been up in air about description. You hear so many differences of opinion. Give the reader enough to set the scene then leave them to it. Let their own imagination fill in the blanks. I agree to a point. We can take it to far in either direction, but personally, I love description. When I read something with a lot of it, I find myself getting closer to the characters quicker than when I read something with very little.

Recently, I began reading CITY OF BONES by, Cassandra Clare. It's book one in The Mortal Instruments series. WOW! The world building would not be possible if not for the incredibly descriptive writing from Clare. I'm creative to point. My imagination gets some pretty odd glances from time to time. I'm okay with that, but even with a hint of a scene, my mind could  never conjure up what Clare has created. I found that I loved the description. I don't always want the pithy little sentences that say so little. I love flowing, beautiful, and vividly crafted sentences that not only move me forward in a story but also make me love the author for her way with words. Crafting is just one of the things that sets one author away from another and I've found myself putting down books that sound so generic, vanilla. Don't get me wrong. I love vanilla. Show me some vanilla pound cake or a nice latte and I'm yours, but I prefer a little more flavor most of the time. I want to be moved by the writing not just the story. What about you? 

I Wish I May.

Okay, so I've been knee deep in following my dreams this week, well, some of them anyway. I've been ranting about my own space for what seems like forever and finally my family can take it no more. Thank God. How long does one person have to roll their eyes before someone notices? So at last, my office will no longer be at one end of the kitchen table. When one desk is picked up from some stranger's house this weekend, and the paint dries, I will have one slightly used office of my very own. It will even have a door (jumps up and down, dances without an ounce of rhythm). Hey, that almost sounded like the beginning of a terrible query letter.

Dear Lucky Agent,

       When a slightly worn desk gets picked up at a stranger's house over the weekend, unsuspecting and aspiring author T.C. Mckee picks up more than she could have ever bargained for. Hidden beneath a secret door inside the desk is the captured demon, Time. The minute the door is breached, T.C.'s life is changed forever, as she's unleashed a powerful demon who's got exactly that...forever. T.C.'s only hope is that she can find the missing key that will lock away Time forever before he insures the paint in her office never dries.

That was fun. Wish me luck people. I'm about a day away from splashing a little Vintage Ribbon onto a wall. I would like to thank my family and Valspar for this opportunity.

NOT Even Vlose...I mean Close.

Today I had a plan. Get through the work day. Make it home in one piece then write away the evening. Horns blared around me as I was caught daydreaming at traffic lights about all the changes I'd be making. My WIP would undoubtedly be a brand new version of delight after tonight's progress. I even stopped at Starbucks on the way home and picked up a skinny Vanilla Latte. Yes. I. Did.

THEN- I got the call that we were out of Boars Head deli meat for sandwiches. That cannot happen under any circumstance in my house, so I stopped off at the grocery store, but not before returning one cell phone back to the cell phone provider that decided to send my daughter a new replacement phone complete with what appeared to be gum on the dial pad. Nice. Even the manager was amazed.

THEN- I watched as my daughter went on an all out rant in the kitchen (my office happens to be the kitchen table) because her father or "my husband" she seethed, ate all the lasagna and I should do something about him. Her day has been "ruined." THEN- I watched silently with both hands poised on the keypad, ready for action as she proceeded to eat what was supposed to be tomorrows dinner. I think I recall her mumbling something about showing "that man" a thing or two but I can't be sure.

THEN- I got the opportunity to sign excuses for my lovelies to be exempt from exams because their grades have been so good they don't have to take them. After that, I saved a pair of socks from the jaws of one Great Dane who had raided the laundry room then sighed a breath of relief as the kitchen emptied of bodies  and I began typing that first word. Sweet bliss.

BUT THEN- a cry was heard from the back yard. One daughter was yelling for help. Potential writer (me) leapt into action. The scene in the back yard was of one daughter being chased in a circle by our dog (same Great Dane who happens to love socks). It was clear he was in distress. Closer inspection revealed he had an obstruction of sorts. Further examination lead to one writer assisting in the delivery of what appeared to be a rather large paper towel. Guess someone cooked bacon in the microwave and some puppy thought the paper towel would be just delicious.

AND THEN- everyone rejoiced except for the potential writer who would have loved the comfort of at least one latex glove.

Puppy patient is now relived and prancing through the back yard. Kids have just reminded me, there's only three more days left of school. Dear God.

Currently looking for ghostwriters then exchanging laptop for wine.

Hello There, I'm still here.

This week has been exhausting. I'm sure a few of you have wondered where on earth I've been. Well, join the club. I've been wondering that myself. My family had quite a scare this week. We nearly lost a very near and dear uncle to a heart attack on Tuesday morning. Unfortunately, he was out of town working at the time and nearly ten hours away from his family. Fortunately, he survived. We are still on our knees, thanking the good Lord for hearing our prayers. I don't speak of praying often, nor do I pray often enough, but this week my entire family was heard and answered. My uncle is recovering and he is now back home with us.

Now when this tragedy occurred, my cousin, his wife, and my aunt left town in a hurry to rush to my uncle's side, leaving their four year old daughter Gracie, in the care of her other grandmother and myself. My kids are 16 and 17. Its been awhile. This brought on more praying as I asked God if she was ever going to stop talking and if he could please send someone to work the (redacted) car seat. Then I asked him to forgive me for saying a curse word in the middle of a prayer because I don't think you're supposed to do that.

My parents used to let us ride on top of the back seat, ya know, right there in the back windshield where we could make faces at the cars behind us and try to talk Dad into slamming on the brakes so we could roll down the seat and into the floor. With the exception of my brother who seems to space out from time to time, we turned out fine. This weeks experience with a child safety seat was like trying to buckle Danica Patrick into a Hans device for the Indy 500, and I doubt her pit crew has to do that as she counts to one hundred while holding a fresh cup of chocolate milk. When did they put cup holders on safety seats? I think I have a bruise on my hip. Needless to say, I've not been blog hopping, haven't written a single word or read hardly a line of anything. I don't know whats gone on throughout the world this week, but I do know my uncle is alive. When he's ready, I'll have to tell him how me and his granddaughter Gracie managed to replace a unicorns horn with a half eaten pickle during our game of "make up a story" in the car. Maybe a little laughter will heal his heart, it sure healed mine.

And It Continues

Well its been a whole week. I haven't blogged and I haven't visited either. Guess you guys already knew that. I'm going to make my rounds this week, see what you've all been up to.  So I thought I'd give you the run down of how the week went. Let you know what I've been up to. I worked all day on Monday then came home and stared at a blank word document for hours. If you're one of those who counts the words "chapter eleven" as progress then the day was a total success. Everyday after that went on in the same fashion. Work, work, work, stare, stare, stare. Then it hit me. I don't just write anymore. I spend more time over thinking it way too much.

Remember back in the day before you read all those books that told you how to write, before all the examples, the countless hours you've spent reading articles or blogs written by literary agents who opine about plot structure and proper beginnings, acceptable endings. After awhile, all that information starts to do two things. First, you learn an enormous amount of much needed information that will undoubtedly make you a better writer. You will see results over time. From every book you read whether its directed at the craft or just some awesome paranormal romance you can't put down, either way, it will all put you one step closer to being a better writer. But, BUT, it will also make you think about every word you write. That's a good thing kinda sorta. But its a bad thing because now you're not just focused on your story, the characters, all the good stuff that's made you that half crazed lunatic holed up at the kitchen table, typing away like you're rain man with a laptop. No, now you're in a personal struggle with every single word. At least that's how I've felt. And I must say, I miss the way I used to just write. However, I do not care for the countless hours of revisions I've had to endure and am still having to endure due to my devil may care way of writing. It was fun the first time around, definitely not the second, third or even the fourth. So, I let myself off the hook. I just started writing. I'll think about fixing things later. I just want to be back in my story. The rest I'll work out when I have to.

What about you? How's it going?

Feeling the Disconnect.

I think I need to take my characters out to dinner. Or, I could send the real characters within my home out to dinner, fix a sandwich for me, and have a long overdo meeting with my imaginary friends, which may be a meet and greet seeing as how so much time has passed. Just yesterday I was in the shower trying to think about my WIS (work in suspension). I gasped when I realized I couldn't recall the last name of one of my characters. Ack! Omigosh, how awful is that? Nothing like getting that faraway, glazed over look while reaching for the razor. Not cool. My would be novel has now turned dangerous. To not recall your own characters could only mean one of two things: too much time has lapsed since I've worked on my WIS, or I'm in the early stages of Dementia.  Progress is supposed to be watching as something moves forward. That is clearly not happening.

I'm also struggling with my blog. As a writing blog, you can only cover so much, and lets face it, most of it has already been covered. I'd like to mix things up a bit. I just don't know how to do that just yet, so I think  I'm gonna take the week off. Think about it. Get to know my characters again, catch up, visit everyone, and make some changes. Any ideas? What should I change about my blog? What do you like or dislike about it? I'd love to know your thoughts.

The Italian Hangover

Okay, so yesterday was my anniversary. I woke with a smile, remembering our vows. I kept my eyes closed as I got lost in sweet kisses. Wet kisses, very wet kisses, morning breath that should be addressed, and then I opened my eyes, sighed, and tried to remove the dog from my face. I had no idea he'd be so into celebrating the anniversary of the day I married the human. Who knew? After that, everything is but a memory. See, we decided to go to Carrabbas Italian Grill to celebrate. Then we were gonna come home, have a few drinks, and I was going to work on a few projects. Instead, we ended up asleep. Totally stuffed with Italian goodies. How sad is that? So, I'm behind again and a little hungover from all the food. Ah, good times. Tell me what you're up to? What did I miss while I was lost in a cannelloni dream that turned out to be more of a memory?

What Would Elana Johnson Do?

Happy Mother's Day! Hope all the mom's out there are being pampered beyond belief. You deserve it! I'm heading out to dinner later with my parents and kids, but for now, I'm living it up in my pajamas. I feel so jacked up, course that could be due to the four cups of coffee I've had so far. So anyways, I wanted to brag about my mail bag and another Momma.

Just last week, I was graced with an envelope that contained a little bundle of bookmarks from the ever awesome Elana Johnson. Yes, I am that important. Hello, where have you people been? Actually, I sent her an email awhile back and offered to strong arm a few librarians around my little hometown and make them order her book. Several drop offs, and one restraining order later, the deed is done. Her book, POSSESSION comes out on June 7th and I am so excited for her and even more excited to read this book. But wait, there's more. Elana was sweet enough to send me an autographed bookmark for my keeping, but after a week of having such a gem in my possession (no pun intended), I had to ask myself, what would Elana do? I mean, if I sent her the bookmark of my up and coming novel, (laughs hysterically, sobs) graced with my very own signature, what would she do? Would she carry it around with her, bragging to everyone how she knows me, would she treasure it as though it were the key to some exotic city, talk to it when no one was around? We all know she would, but then, she'd pass it on because she's just that cool. So I'm gonna do the same. All you have to do, in honor of Mother's Day, is tell me the funniest thing your kid ever said. If you're not a  mother, just tell me something you said as a child or something you heard from somebody else's kid. Whoever makes me snort the most, gets the bookmark. And, you'll get to play a part in something else, but you'll have to win before I tell you what it is. In Elana's words, it's gonna be filled with "AWSOMESAUCE". Contest ends on Tuesday.

Happy rest of the weekend, people.

Simple Synopsis.

So I've been thinking a lot lately about the ever dreaded synopsis. I'm doing this in the car because I have no time otherwise, and truth be told, I'm only thinking about it as a diversion. I should be thinking about finishing my revisions long before I think about the synopsis, but it keeps me from having to do revisions. I know some writers use their synopsis as an outline. Me, not so much. I can't figure out if I'm truly struggling with it, or if I'm too intimidated by the whole concept. My story is so complex, at least it feels that way to me. The story spans three hundred years. How am I supposed to sum that up? Girl meets boy. Boy seems weird. Boy turns out to be weird. Girl meets other boy who is also weird. Falls for second weird guy, only to discover she's sort of weird too. Girl uncovers a dark family secret that leads to another weird discovery. Fairies show up that may have once upon a time caused such weirdness. Girl accepts herself for being weird, defeats other weird adversaries then goes on to live happily ever  after with weird boy number two. It's of course a little more to it than that but I think it works. Oh God.

Maybe I'll just stick to beta reading.

My Next WIP.

Its Spring time all around. The weather is warming up outside. We're all painting our toes, tanning our bodies, and exercising to look better in those bathing suits this summer (some of us are looking up the word exercise, and cursing over misspelling it three times, but I'm not naming names). I'm stoked its getting warmer. I am sooo not a cold weather kind of girl, but does everything else have to come with it. I can hardly beta read for the pollen. Seriously, I took the dog out for a walk last night and made the mistake of shining the flashlight into the yard. It was like watching microscopic aliens attack my body. My wedding anniversary is next week and I made my husband promise not to put a flower on my pillow. I'd view such an act on the same level of finding a  severed horses head sharing my pillow. Not cool. Concentrating is hard, but to those who make Puffs...You're welcome. Hope your profit sharing checks are awesome this year. If you're feeling generous, I could use another box of Claritin. To my followers, worry not. I've been inspired by this turn of events. There is always a silver lining my friends. I'm feeling a new project coming on. I've tentatively dubbed it DEATH BY DAFFODILS. You guessed it, its a horror.  Rant over.

Um...You have to read this.

I wasn't going to post today and I'm not.  Jenn Johansson said it all.

Z-End

This too is a day late, but hey, nothing like making sure the A-Z challenge continues on for one more day. For me, the A-Z was a lot of fun. I had the opportunity to meet some really great bloggers, add a few to my list, and collect a few followers. But I have to say, the blogging every day thing was not for me. I tried to hang in there but sometimes the posts felt a little forced and planned and that's not me. I'm too random for all that. So I'm taking a day or two off to stalk my way around the blogosphere and find out what everybody's been up to while I've been on the challenge. I should be back to my random little posts and rants by Wednesday, or who knows, maybe even tomorrow;)

X And Umm....Y

Better late than never. Just pretend today's really Thursday. X is for Xtraneous words. I know, I know, its not how you're supposed to spell it but nobody said anything about not being able to make up stuff, so I'm going to. I have a problem with this. I always have too many xtraneous words and I spend half my time removing them when I'm revising. Why can't I just spot those pesky bad habits the first time around. I vote for an xtraneous word remover for Word. The first person that comes up with this needs to contact Microsoft stat. And BTW, it's perfectly okay to send me the trial version first, just saying.

Now moving onto the Y, and yes, you're now free to acknowledge the day is Friday. 

You- are amazing if you're reading this because I have been a terrible reply blogger all week. Work has been insane. I'll make it up to you. Promise.

Yevan- is the name of a character in a WIP I work on from time to time. He's not a huge character and he's actually dead and only referred to as the dead Yevan, but he's still a character I suppose.

Yaris- Model of the tiny Toyota I should be buying this weekend after spending a HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS IN GAS THIS WEEK. (I was screaming this last part)

Yemen- A place I've never aspired to go. If you're from Yemen and you're reading this, don't take it personally. I've never aspired to go to Idaho either. Crap, if you're from Idaho and you're reading this, don't take it personally. I happen to love potatoes, I just...nevermind.


Happy Weekend, people.

W is for Whimsical.

Whimsical, one of my favorite character traits. In fact, its about seventy five percent of my own genetic makeup( no self love intended). Hey, who knew? When it comes to my WIP, I've always tried to throw in a whimsical character. Add a little spunk somewhere in the mix of the story. Finding the voice for those characters is easy. I just steal or blend a few personalities together from the people I know, hoping to form a snarky little entertaining bubble. At least I hope its entertaining, but sometimes those snarky little comments in a story can be distracting. I know, I do this myself. Where do you draw the line? How do you balance your snark?

V is for Visionaries.

Visionaries...aren't we all?

I know, kind of short but its 8:20 in the evening and its all I've got.
I'm hanging on. Pathetically hanging on...

T-U

I missed Saturdays blog post. I missed the whole weekend and I'm sorry.  I hardly had a minute to open my computer, and after the panic wore off, it felt kind of good. I knew I'd be way behind and I was right, I am. But I got so much accomplished around the house. Even polished my wood floors, so now I'm following the dog around with a lint roller in the hopes of saving my floor from his hair. Its not working and he thinks somethings wrong with me. I just needed some TIME to unwind. It wasn't you, it was me. I think I'm good now.

Speaking of unwinding. I just finished UNEARTHLY by Cynthia Hand so I'm using the title for my U-day. Loved this book. It will take you back to your first kiss and leave you breathless near the end. I laughed out loud and sighed more times than I can tell you. You gotta check it out.

What have you read lately that's left you breathless?

S is for SOLITUDE!

Today is the first day of spring break. Yay...SO NOT. There was so much commotion in my kitchen this morning I had to sing the alphabet twice just to find the letter that comes after R. There were three kids in my kitchen this morning attempting to scramble eggs and bake sausage balls that have been frozen since Christmas. The dog was busy trying to scavenge (bully) for mishaps, and did I mention that one of those kids isn't even mine. If I hear the dogs name mentioned one more time followed by an UGH, I'm going to jump out of the basement window. 

So, SOLITUDE. Me wants it.

Happy Easter.

R is for Really?

I'm so late getting this out today. The past two days have been crazy. Just last night, a good friend called I hadn't talked to in forever and we'd been playing phone tag for days. I poured a glass of wine, snuggled into the chaise just as my daughter walked into the house sobbing and laughing at the same time. I was puzzled by these twisting emotions. Was she laughing so hard she was crying. Was she crying because she was injured. I didn't know. Then I saw her hand, held up at an odd angle, swelling by the second. Turns out her sister had rolled her fingers up in the automatic car window.
"Why didn't you move your hand," I asked?
"I don't know," she laughed. "That's why we're laughing."
"Really?" 
Seems as though there was a delayed reaction between pain and panic.
The outcome was two bruised fingers and one hairline fracture to the middle finger. One more thing to add to the wall of shame in the family room.
Good times.

Q is for Qua

She sashayed through the house, tie-dyed sheet wrapped round her middle, hands holding onto the ends, arms spread out like wings. Through fluttering lashes, twists and turns, she watched him, hoping he might inquire. Finally, he looked up and held her gaze, extended a quizzical brow then went back to the business section of the newspaper.

She was channeling again, reaching into the misty waters of a world unknown to him. A world within her mind where faery's live to seduce, prey on unsuspecting maidens, and apparently cook breakfast burritos. He was no maiden and she was no faery. He shuddered as she ran a light fingertip down the line of his jaw then watched in mock horror as she stole his coffee and twirled off in a blur of color. She was in qua with one of her characters again, inspired by a scene she'd no doubt created just last night. He wasn't one to thwart inspiration. The paper could wait.

Qua on people! 

And the letter P is for...hum...

I just don't know people. I've been racking my brains. The dog won't stop whining. He wants to eat the cat. The same cat he's been stalking through the back door for oh, nine months now. I keep ranting..."It's the same cat. It's not a new cat. Why is she such a surprise to you everyday". And the cat, d@*n her if she doesn't egg him on, staring through the glass, putting a paw on the door. Psychotic!(there's my P word, right there) That's what she is and he's without a doubt, a bone short. I keep having these pep talks about how he should be the bigger guy and not let her get to him. He's a Great Dane for crying out loud. Being the bigger guy shouldn't be a problem. After all, he's the one inside the house. No, he's got to hop around the kitchen like he's never been so disrespected, when the truth is, we both know she did it to him yesterday and the day before and the day before. I cannot concentrate here! I'm going to Starbucks. ;)

Ordinary...I don't think so.

To be ordinary, one must have no special abilities. Have no qualities or interests. Be the standard level of everything. I used to think I was ordinary. It wasn't my fault, really. I wasn't good at things when I was little. I made the softball team look god awful in those polyester pants. Used my nose more than the glove for catching balls. Was the last person picked for the dodge ball team, and yet, I was the number one target when the game got started. In gym class, I was the kid perpetually hanging from the pull up bar, ya know, the one meant to torment the slightly overweight throughout adolescence. When I learned to ride a bike, I was head first into my neighbors mailbox. I think there's a movie about my life somewhere. My husband, the football star loves to talk about his glory days. Me, I don't even know what those are. Well, that's not totally true. I think I'm living them now. Things get better with age. So when I write, I try to blend a little bit of the extraordinary into my characters, because I know its in there. That ability to be more than you are. That drive to go past the self esteem issues, and find the strength to make things happen. To do a freakin push up at thirty five while chanting your gym teachers name instead of a number. Sorry, got off on a little rant there. My point is, I don't think ordinary people exist. The word should be undiscovered. How about you? Are your characters extraordinary?

N is for Nothing...to it.

Okay, so you're deep in your WIP, really concentrating. It's a good night for working. But then your significant other walks in, sees the furrow of your brow, and inquires. You try to explain your level of concentration. You've been building scenes, structuring plots, researching facts, and lastly, character building. He glazes over, stammers for something to say. A moment of silence passes and you think you'll get thirty more minutes of time to write, but then, he says the funniest thing ever. "Wow, this whole writing thing's kind of involved huh. I always thought there was nothing to it." Suddenly I'm inspired to write in a new character. One that seems habitually lost.

Catch Up!

Here it is, the middle of the month already and I'm throwing together a twofer. Yep, that's right. You guessed it. I'm blending my L day with an M. I've been hanging blinds and doing  family stuff all day and haven't had the chance to even open my computer. It actually felt kind of good. So, I thought I'd be completely original and show off some of my Lovelies in honor of the L-Day that I so blatantly missed. The M-Day will be noted at the bottom. Swear.

          Great Mother Daughter Pose (I'm on the right and she was blowing a tiny spit bubble...nice. )

I told the hubbs to be serious and stop clowning around for the camera (previous pics were ridiculous).

                Daughter number two striking a pose in the driveway.

      My brother, nephew, and father on a mini vacation. My father cooperated.

          Crouching Cooper in my monkey grass when he was just a puppy (120lbs ago).

Why do they think its okay to behave this way? I have no idea where they get this. But now you've met my family (except for my mother who only allows shots of the back of her head) and I'm sure there is no need to tell you that we have never hired a professional photographer. I think they charge by the hour and it will take much more than a few of those to get my delinquents to cooperate. We sure have fun though. I wish I could have showed you the wall of shame. We have a bulletin board in our den plastered with memories that some would like to forget. Good luck with that.

In all seriousness, my header reads: A life without love is no life at all. And it is so very true. I'm blessed even if they're morons half the time.

Now onto my M, its for Mary. 

Mary Waibel. You have to go check her out. She's an awesome blogger and writer friend who is there when you need her. She's always encouraging and full of intriguing ideas. You'd be missing out not to pay her a visit.

Happy weekend.

K is for Kindred.

                                                                  "Kindred Spirits"

This canvas was painted in 1849 by Asher B Durand. A painter who was commissioned by a New York merchant, and art collector to capture the friendship between painter Thomas Cole, and journalist/poet William Cullen Bryant. Cole died an untimely death in 1848. Bryant delivered the eulogy that inspired this painting. You can read more about it if you're interested here, but mostly, it reminded me of  the many kindred spirits in my life. Friends, acquaintances, loved ones, and the like that I'd love to share a moment with, out in the middle of nowhere. It always amazes me how we find each other. Kindred spirits, I mean. Just when you think no one gets you, somebody shows up on a gorge and just does. At times the greatest gifts are in the simplest things.

Jovial is the Word.

And jovial is what I always try to be whether I'm hosting this blog, a barbecue, or stalking the aisles of the grocery store. I love to see people smiling. I find great satisfaction in hearing laughter and it's even more thrilling to cause it on occasion. Sometimes, there's just no place for seriousness but laughter is always welcome. Unless you're at a funeral. Don't do it. People will forgive all sorts of things but that's not one of them.

That's it for the day, people. Saunter (virtually) off to another blog and be jovial.

;)

And the word of the day is Inspiration.

Actually, no its not. I don't seem to have any. I had a big meal last night at Cracker Barrel with my parents (my Dad thinks its the greatest) and now I feel like my organs might be shutting down. I lit a candle this morning, prepared the routine cup of coffee, opened up my WIP, and nothing. I'm not exactly blind but I'm not sure that I'm seeing clearly either. Oh God, eyes are organs, my donor card says so. What if mine really are shutting down. I had baked lard (biscuits), slathered with butter, and apple butter. That's two butter products on lard. I'm going to die. I just don't get it. I was on a roll yesterday. I felt so alive with ideas, then all my inspiration, gone just like that. Slumps into chair, stares at computer, and waits for death. How long does it take butter to harden in your arteries, anyway. I'm turning to Honey Nut Cheerios. If I can't go back, I'm going to move forward. What do you do when you feel all uninspired. For the love of God, don't say you go to Cracker Barrel.

Hemidemisemiquaver!

I found this word in a wonderful little book called The Lexicon, by William F. Buckley Jr. I skim through it occasionally, looking for new words that I might introduce to my own vocabulary as well as my WIP. Upon doing so, I discovered one very important thing. If there is wine involved, never ever use this word in a sentence. Better yet, just don't use this word in a sentence, period.

If, however, you're feeling geekish (like me most of the time). The word is hemidemisemiquaver, and it means thoughts or frustrations lasting for only passing seconds. It also means a sixty fourth note in music but the word is generally only used by the British. We Americans just call it the sixty fourth note. Go figure. I know you stand enlightened. You're welcome.


Happy Weekend.

Blending Again.

Okay, I'm blending again. We have nine more windows to go, sawdust as far as the eye can see, displaced furniture, and naked windows threatening to reveal exactly that if we don't start hanging blinds. My husband isn't exactly modest. If there's a band, it's still underwear. He doesn't care that we live in an associated neighborhood. I can only assume that no member wants to be that associated with my husband.

So I'm blending family, friends, and God. Throw in a few books and what else could anyone ever need. To all of my new followers, bare with me as I find the time amidst the sawdust to follow you back. I'll be visiting you and catching up this weekend.

Happy Weekend Everyone.

Determined to Evolve.

I'm a loser, sorry. I totally missed D-Day. We're having new windows put in our house and the entire place is a mess. So, I'm blending posts. Please don't call the authorities or anything. That's right, I plan to throw a D right onto an E-day.

Here's the big message for the day: Be determined to achieve whatever your goal may be. If you're a writer like me, be determined to evolve in your writing career. Learn all you can about the craft. Read everything you can get your hands on. Lean on your writer friends. Read blogs like this one but look for better blogs that might actually teach you something. This one...not so much. Find critique partners. Build relationships. Stalk agents but adhere to the law, people. No agent wants to be slipped a query letter while they're on the Jon (Is this John or Jon?  See there, evolving.) Don't do it. There are limits to determination and only so much that can be blamed on wine consumption but always move forward. Every little thing you learn along the way will help you with your writing. Even the the things you think to be insignificant, you'll be amazed when you have to use them later. Just keep going. That is all.

The Cornucopia.

You're an odd duck. The eccentric little swimmer, determined to wander from the usual current of the pond. Hey, me too. Somebody's gotta cause all those ghastly fictitious murders, invent the shape-shifters, faeries, halflings, half bloods, whole bloods, vampires, swamp things, alien life forms, seekers, zombies, and tediously throw in a couple of star crossed lovers. Our minds are filled with ideas. Bottomless cornucopias brimming with creativity, often making us the recipients of those blank stares at cocktail parties. The "alrighty thens" as I like to call it. How many times have you explained a glistening little fairy thing to a bunch of paralegals and not gotten the "alrighty then" look, hum? Embrace it. Work with it. Twitch a little if you want to really have some fun with those people. See, they'll never get it. They're the same people who would love to read such inventions and often do. The first in line when the movie comes out. They just don't want to have a conversation about such things, especially, before publication. Just picture Stephanie Myer talking about vegetarian vampires before TWILIGHT was ever even heard of. My husband would have been giving me the ole' nut job by the shrimp cocktail look from across the room in two seconds flat. Totally normal. We, however, are not. I would have been in awe that she had thought of it first. I'm cool with this. Being different is okay with me now. I didn't always feel this way. It took me awhile to grasp that people just don't get what we do. I can't take it personally. Is it okay with you?

Bermuda!

I totally cannot wait till September. Me and the hubbs are outta here. We're going on a cruise to Bermuda. A much needed, long overdue cruise to Bermuda. Now I just have to tan, lose ten pounds, find a bathing suit that doesn't ride into my unmentionables all the time, and conjure up enough strength to leave my pooch. I've never been away from my pup, Cooper. It's gonna be one of the hardest things I've ever done. Oh, and the kids. We'll miss them too.

I keep thinking what it'll be like to take a full week off from writing, and I must admit, the thought makes me wonder if I'll truly be able to stick to that. Sure, I'll be reading books while the hubbs gets all philosophical on me after a few of those umbrella drinks, but secretly, I bet I'll be taking notes. How about you, do you refrain from writing while you're away, or does your muse ever really let you? 

Ack!

Today's the day, people. The first day of the A to Z challenge. The ab initio. Each of you get to hear me opine about one thing or another every day this month. Drat it all! I meant to save opine for the Os. Depressed yet? Step away from the window sill. I know, it's almost too much isn't it? Really, it prolly is too much, but it sounds like its going to be a blast.  I'll do my best to keep my posts short and pithy. And I'm so excited to meet so many creative and talented bloggers along the way. Whether you signed up for the challenge or not, you can always follow along in the meet and greets anyway. You never know who you might bump into. Thank your stars this things completely virtual. I don't know how we're supposed to fit in our daily ablutions and post too. But shower, people. Everyday. Well, its okay to skip Sunday if you want. Be a slob. Drink your coffee. Eat cold pizza. We won't think any less of you.

Thanks for stopping by and happy hopping.

Reminiscing.

Picture this. The kids are at school. The husband is taking a nap after working all night. The dog has been fed,  walked, and is happily gnawing on the remnants of a rather disgusting looking bone. Sweet iced tea, check. Tissues for allergy season, double check. Cell phone, silent. Notebook filled with ideas, open. Word doc, open. Glare from the picture window, zero. Chicken and lettuce wrap, consumed. Pants, check. Bra, optional. Status, absolute heaven. Hey, don't be a hater. The kids will be home in twenty minutes and this day of peace will be coming to an end.

But its been awesome. I'm not even gonna lie. I spent the day writing, daydreaming, and going through my original WIP to see what I could bring over to my revisions doc. When I revise, I usually open a new doc, transfer one chapter at a time, and revise. It makes the whole process seem less overwhelming. There's just something easier about ten pages as opposed to looking at 284. Maybe its just me. So, as I'm looking through the older version, I was surprised to see that there was very little I could transfer over. The story itself has just changed so much, but more importantly, so has my writing. I mean, I know I'll never be Hemingway or Austen, but I was blown away by how much things have changed in a year. I haven't looked at the older doc in months. Its amazing what we learn as we go along and we don't even realize it until its happened. I wonder if I'll read my revisions next year and laugh. I hope not.

It wasn't all a wash though. As I looked through those first pages, I remembered the excitement through it all. The way the story flowed through me faster than I could type it. The way the characters took over my thoughts and dreams, weaving themselves into my life like strands of thread throughout my wedding gown. They became almost a part of me during that time. They still are. There's just nothing like the feeling of the first draft. Mistakes and all. Its still the best feeling. How do you feel when you open those original docs and reminisce?

The A-Z Blogging Challenge.

Well, we have less than a week left of blogging freedom then its the A-Z blogging challenge that's going to take over my world. A blog everyday. YIKES. Already, I'm wondering what on earth I'm going to blog about. And I'm not gonna even lie, I'm struggling with some of the letters, although, I did think of a word for A after some um hum cut me off at Walgreen's earlier. What's worse is that I tried to go through the alphabet without singing. Yeah, that was embarrassing. No judging, you try it.

I hope you're taking the challenge too. Just click on the little box to the right if you're not and join in on the fun. I personally can't wait to see all the U's X's and Y's. That's gonna take some googling. Is that cheating? Omigosh, I hope its not cheating. I'm over-thinking this.

In other news, I have very little. I've promised myself an entire hour on the treadmill and then its writing for the rest of the evening. Ugh on the first part of that, yes to the rest of it. I think I had more time to write when I worked full time. Hope you're all having a wonderful weekend and your muses are in full swing. Mine is chomping at the bit to do something reckless. I may just let her roll with it.

Happy Weekend People.

Romancing My Protag.

Okay, so in the midst of life and how ridiculously busy its been lately, I've been thinking about my characters. Or, obsessing as my significant other likes to call it. Course I like to dream about little quiet moments where I get to shave my legs, paint my toenails, and tan too, but hey, no one calls that obsessing. Now that winter seems to be over, I'm really stressing over those Christmas pounds and don't even get me started on the level of paleness I've been able to achieve. Holy lord, my legs look like two bottles of Elmer's glue. But time to tan could be time spent writing. I wonder if I could get my laptop in one of those beds. Doubtful, and who needs an HP tan line on their stomach? Actually, that would be kinda cool.

Moving on to my protagonist now, and I promise not to discuss her legs or her weight. There's another problem. Her love interests. Ever read a book or twelve and find yourself diggin both hotties? Hello, team Edward over here. Can't decide on Gale or Peeta (The Hunger Games)? Ugh, what do you do when its your very own WIP and you have to make one of them the keeper and one them the weeper? Can't we keep em both? Come on, one of them is good with a knife, the other makes lovely little cakes. I like cake and if you add a man to that cake. Oh, my, gosh. Fantasy number four on my list. So, I came to a place in my WIP where I don't even know anymore. I mean, I think I do, but jeeze they're both so lovely. How do you let the other one down? I'm so sad right now. I hate break ups. I think my protag is going to have some ice cream in this next scene. I'm so depressed. Sigh.

Why Not E Everything?

 I vote to never have to use the printed word again. Calm down. I'm not counting books, just anything you might  want to print from home. See, I bought a printer and it hates me. No really, it does. It's a wireless printer but it doesn't work without the wires. How cool is that? Not. At. All.

I went through this whole evening of trying to get the router to cooperate with the little blue WiFi thingy on the front of Satan, I mean Cannon, and it finally came on and stayed all blue. And its still on. But it won't work without the wire hooked up to the laptop. Love me some techno bullo on a Saturday night. Doesn't make sense and I want to back over it with my car right about now (Get over here Rob!). But who needs to hear hubby complaining to the kids about the mess they left in the driveway (I will blame it on them, always do, makes them understand the whole life's not fair thing, gotta prepare them for the world). Hold on tho, there's a silver lining.

See, I was printing out random things with Satan when the wire was hooked up, and of course not printing out things on Satan without it, but I found an old bunch of papers from way back in college.  Okay, it was last year. Anyways, I found this list of phrases and words that can often be eliminated from our writing. I had forgotten all about it. And my writing proves it. I thought I'd share a little while I wait on the priest to show up.

Words:   extremely, really ( really? I can get into that whole YA voice crying out the word "really"), very, about, a lot, few, many, some, dull, stupid (well good lord, do we have to use daft instead), little, big, huge, wonderful, beautiful, pretty, incredible, so much, usually, unique, and typical.

Phrases:   needless to say, in my opinion, I think, I believe, I feel, unbelievable (that's like one of my favorite words), I can't describe it, for example.

So, needless to say, in my opinion, me thinks this is wonderful information. I mean, none of us want to be stupid or god forbid nondescript. Shudder. I hope this makes a big difference in your writing. I know mine is going to be pretty incredible after this. It's always the little things that make such a huge difference for me.He he. Sorry, couldn't resist. But in all seriousness, I forget about his at times when I do get lost in that YA voice. Kids talk a certain way and grammatically correct is not one of them. I suppose there is a time and place within our stories where we know when its right to keep them or better to let them go. What do you think?

Happy Weekend People.

Awesome Week!

I'm so far behind guys. I've been wanting to visit all of you, check out what's going on, and get all with it and everything, but a few fabulous things happened to me this week and one of them has kept me pretty busy. The first is my follower button. Check it out. Yep, 100 followers. Shweet! I'm so happy to have each one of you. Its  amazing to go down the list of your followers and see all the amazing talent that's out there. I'm so blessed to have so many people to learn from, to lean on, to relate to, to just follow. After being around so many other walks of life, the writing community is by far the most giving, supportive, and understanding group I've ever been associated with. They can be brutal too, but I'll still take this community over any other. Thanks for being there and following my blog.

The other biggie is totally not related to writing. But I'll share anyway. I'm a small business owner in addition to this whole writing dream. It's just a small concierge business that I operate out of my home. If you're  not familiar with one of those, it's basically a personal errand and consulting service. They're pretty big in major cities. We had none in mine.

So, it's been really slow with the economy in the condition that its in, and it took awhile to get people acquainted with the whole concept. But some hard work, lots of prayer (thanks Carol, Rob, and God) and networking (hey, we do that here too) and this week, it took off.  I'm gonna have to hire people and will begin interviewing soon. I just cannot believe it. Happy dance and I don't even care what I look like doing it. I guess one out of two dreams coming true in a week is a pretty good week. Now the skeptic in me keeps waiting for the "but". I keep telling her to go away but she keeps hovering.

So that's my news, people. I hope all of you have had some great news this week too. Now I just have to find time to work on the writing dream. My muse is going to be nearly intolerable. I wonder if buying her shoes will keep her sated until I can find time to write. I may have to try.

So here's the story.

Muse attacks writer with awesomest (she knows its not a word, let it go) idea ever.
Husband calls writer to tell her they're out of ham and bananas.
Muse throws fit in the car. Writer nearly has to pull over to address Muse's behavior.
Muse gets excited as writer unloads the car and puts away the ham and bananas.
Dog is wounded because writer did not bring home another stuffed toy for him to disembowel.
Daughter number one needs to make schedules clear for tomorrows extra curricular activities.
Daughter number two is playing something unintelligible on the drum set that some moron (me) got her for her birthday.
Writer decides to put on pajamas and pour a glass of wine.
Writer gets comfortable and demands quiet.
Dog decides he has to go potty.
Dog sees cat and forgets he has to potty.
Writer gets back to her laptop. Dog remembers that he had to potty.
Writer walks dog AGAIN and returns to her laptop.
Muse is now pissed and withholding information.
Writer closes laptop, pours the wine down the drain and goes to bed.
Goodnight all. 

Daylight Savings Time.

Gah! I just lost a whole freaking hour. Any idea what that means? It means that I am now an hour later than I usually am. So, seeing as how I'm usually fifteen minutes late no matter what, I'm now going to be an hour and fifteen minutes late everywhere I go. Wonderful.

I don't know why we even do this, but I'll be screwed up for the next few days. Believe me. I know its a mind thing. Its not like someone came in during the night and actually removed an hour from my life, but it feels that way. See, I read till like two which was really three. The alarm was set for nine which was really ten and then by the time I hit snooze three times, you get the picture. Not good if you've got a lot to do.

On a good note though, I have been able to do some writing and me and Cooper went out for a wonderful walk in the park( weather here is so awesome) And I managed to visit with my mother and clear her computer of a dreadful virus. Unfortunately, I also removed Windows and it looks like everything else too. Whoops. That's gonna get complicated. Not bad for lost time. Hows your life going today? What are you up to in your writing world? I'd love to know.

Finally

You probably thought I was going to report that I'd "finally" gotten myself an agent. Nope. Not even close. I can't bring myself to experience the whole query letter debacle again until I've really finished these revisions, and stocked the wine rack. I'm not bitter, I like watching the whole story unfold. But every time I think its unfolded for the last time, something else changes. Its like my manuscript is a fitted sheet. No matter what I do to it, its never gonna fold quite right. I can hold it up, turn it around for all of eternity, say things to it that makes the dog look at me funny, but at the end of the day, its still a freaking circle meant for a square. Will it ever look perfect? Well, not in the linen closet it won't. So, I'm staying the course to finish this story before I die. Even a fitted sheet looks perfect every now and then right? At least until my husband drops unidentified crumbs on the bed. Trust me, you haven't lived until you've vacuumed a man's chest. Just saying.

What I really wanted to say was that I "Finally" read The Hunger Games. Holy Lord, what was I waiting for? Pk, if you're reading this, get on that like yesterday. Amazing. I could not put it down. Seriously, I was up till two thirty last night reading it then ran out this morning just to buy Peeta pockets at the store. That's a lie, I did no such thing. It did make me wonder about finality though. Not in the life and death sense. That's depressing and I choose to believe that one day, I will become a vampire who can survive on sweet tea and Mexican food instead of blood. I will live forever and I'll never have to worry about gaining weight or feeling so much animosity towards those jogging Barbie's at the park. But it made me wonder when other authors realize that they are truly done. Ready for the agent, the book deal kind of done. Do we ever really get there with ourselves? Somehow I doubt it. We are our own worst critics I'm sure. So, how do you know when its time?

BTW: You have to go check out a brand new blog called Butterfly Pages. Let's welcome Madame Butterfly and show her some writerly lurve. Thanks guys.

Can Too.

Okay, so I've been arguing with myself again lately. And yes, sometimes much to the dismay of my family, its been out loud. Over the last few days, I've finally had the time to open my WIP. It seems I've also had the time to stare at it until I feel like I'm looking through a kaleidoscope filled with black and white images.While I sit there biting my nails and wishing for more interesting hallucinations, the problem finally occurs to me. Music of doom begins. I...must...make...changes.

Revisions are like that, I know. You send out your story. Someone reads it and makes all those suggestions that you have needed to know for so long. You're now armed with the tools to delete what needs to go. Keep what you need to keep. But sometimes, the story needs to change dramatically. Or at least some parts of it. And you think, well, I can't do that. Its not how it goes. But...why not? I mean, are we not the authors? I can change this or that. I can do whatever I want (right now anyway, I'm not published or even watched closely, it's a free for all over here). The point is, we should never feel so confined to our stories. I was accused of being "so open" by my beta and that made her happy and a little more relaxed. She didn't have to worry about hurting my feelings. I just had to worry about letting go of the things I needed to let go of and where to go from there. So, I did it. Yes...I...did.

 I toasted a waffle (chill out, it was whole grain. I'm not an animal), sprayed on a fat free butter substance and some blackberry jam, circled the laptop a few times to work off the waffle and made my changes. I feel so alive. So free. I'm blaring the Sound of Music before the nights over just to piss off the kids kind of free. No, wait, I do that when I'm feeling mischievous.

With the sugar rush from the waffles( said they were whole grain, not sugar free) I was able to focus and make myself get to it. Every time I hit delete, the words "Can too" came out right after. Now, I just have to go back in there and delete a whole bunch of "can too's" from my WIP then I'll be golden. He he. Oops. Got a little jacked up, I think. Seems to happen to me a lot.

Happy Monday.

I Can't Find You.

I'm not the first person to mention this on a blog and I certainly won't be the last. But it's an important reminder from time to time. I have a few followers I cannot follow back. I want to. I really want to know you, see what you're all about. Build a blogging relationship with you. Find creative inspiration in your daily musings. Miss you when you're gone. But you're invisible.  I cannot have a relationship with an invisible person. Just ask my ex husband.

So here's the deal. When I click on the little thumbnail picture of your smiling face, your blog is not listed in your profile. So, I cannot stop by for a visit. I've tried to Google a few of you, but have found nothing. I want to be there for you. Watch as you go down this tumultuous road to publication or public drunkenness whichever comes first. No judging, we've all been there. I can't help you celebrate the day you get an agent, or talk you off the ledge when I don't know what building you're in.

So, lets do this. Sign into blogger. Go into your dashboard, click edit profile, and find where it shows your blogs to list. Click on that and make sure you have your blog listed there. Make sure your email address is there also. What if I'm an agent who just happened upon you and I want to make you my pretty? Only to discover that you are hiding from me. Ugh!

So make sure you can be found and I will be right over. Also, I'm still trying to catch up on my blog visiting. I took a few days off last week. Catching up is soooo hard. And with the kids, the hubby, the dog, the stray cats, and well, you get the picture. Time is not on my side.

Happy Weekend People.

Perfecting Description.

As writers, we read all the time. It's entertainment. It's also research. Sometimes, we get stopped short. You know the moment I'm referring to. You're reading a good book, totally engrossed then you come to that sentence, a paragraph that's so amazing it takes your breath away. Everything comes to a screeching halt and you just have to reread it. Well, I read this next paragraph just yesterday, and that's exactly what happened to me. Prepare to be in awe.

And, in the midst of the feathered darkness, an unknown faery arrived and stood staring at them with cavernous eyes. Her body was partially wrapped in a torn gray winding sheet that trailed behind her like the train of a gown. Vivid spots of red stood out on the cloth, like scarlet poppies in a field of ashes.
     Darkest Mercy by Melissa Marr (HARPER an imprint of Harper Collins)

This is from the fifth and final book of the Wicked lovely series and it left me in awe of her talent. I can only hope that someday one of my own descriptions causes the same reaction. I was amazed that someone could make such a violent scene seem so beautiful. Guess Wicked Lovely is more than fitting. How are your descriptions? Are they this beautiful? How could you make them better? Give us an example of your own favorite description or from your own work if you like. I'd love to read it.

You Think You Know A Person.

Its been busy in the Mckee household as usual. Finding time to write has been nonexistent, although, I'm happy to report that the bathroom redo is almost done. Thank god. I actually put in a bathroom sink myself. Faucet and everything. I'm glowing with pride at the moment, but I must confess that I keep running downstairs every half hour to see if we've sprouted a leak. 

So, with the chores complete for the day, I decided to steal away with my trusty laptop and form a few sentences, change a few things here and there, check on all my blogging buddies, and take a well deserved break (come on, I put in a sink). And what would make a break all the more enjoyable but a few Thin Mint Girl Scout Cookies. Um hum. I open the pantry. They're not there. Shelf two, just beside the oatmeal. They're gone. Someones moved them. Husband begins to bite fingernails by the refrigerator. Shelf one is housing a lovely box of Peanut Butter Patties but I don't want them. I want Thin Mints. Hubby silently walks over and peeks over my shoulder to help. But nothing helps. There are no Thin Mints.

A brief investigation which included a floor to ceiling search, mild interrogations of every family member, and a mint breathalyzer test that I should patent was executed to everything that moved, except for one Great Dane who hid like a coward under the kitchen table. Guard dog my ...

The perpetrator turned out to be the very man that shares my life. My checkbook, my everything. I wash this mans underwear and how does he repay me? Does he share the last Thin Mint? No he does not. Is he showing an ounce of remorse? No he is not. He thinks this is funny. Foolish man. Does he not know that one does not mess with another persons Thin Mints? Who does that? I can't write now. I'm uninspired and frankly heartbroken. I was planning to tweak a love scene but I'm afraid an act of war would be the only thing that my mind could conjure up. And there's no reason to put my characters through that sort of suffering. No, tonight I will attempt to satiate my craving with Peanut Butter Patties, and tomorrow I will hunt me some Girl Scouts.

I'm not sure I will ever view the man I have loved the same. You think you know a person. But do we ever know what one is truly capable of?