frazzled & frumpy

I am not a competitor. The last time I tried to play organized sports was the tryouts for 9th grade basketball. During practice I tripped over my own feet and twisted my ankle. (If I had a middle name, it would not be Grace.) {But I don't have a middle name.} [That's a blog post for another time.] Anyway, my competitive spirit was squashed along with my cheap tennies. I'm a lover, not a fighter. But when it comes to my writing, I'll make an exception. I'll even go to war. What kind of war, you say? Pitch War. First, I stalked a bunch of people online. (Not just any people. Mentors for the war.) I may or may not know where they went to elementary school and their favorite drink. Also, I know what genre they write--that's a bit more pertinent. I also got active on Twitter. Sort of. It still confuses me. I'm a twitter-twit. Then, I worked like a mad-woman to polish my manuscript and query letter . (Six years ago, I didn't even know what a ...

Writing is fun. It is joyful and therapeutic, inspirational, cathartic, soul-reaching work. When it isn't work. Writing as a profession can sort of suck. Making it a profession is hard. Blogs that are financially successful, (especially ones where the blogger just writes, no crafts or cooking) are few and far between. Getting a steady, loyal readership is tough. Just ask, well...me. I've thought about quitting, but really, if I was in this for the money I would've quit years ago. One of the best ways to write, and, make money at it, is books. But, that process sucks, too. First, you have to write a book, then edit it, edit some more, then some editing--you get the picture.  Then, you have to find an agent, more editing, then the agent has to find you a publisher. (I made that sound much easier than it is.) I'm still on the editing part. I recently had someone tell me about their friend's daughter who makes a few thousand a month writing and publishing ebook...

The words in my head were traveling along at breakneck speed. Nouns and verbs and adjectives lined up, organized and lovely. They rushed forward, flowing from head to hands to page. Then, out of nowhere, a barricade arose. Large and bulky, it forced its way into our path. Letters and punctuation rammed into one another.An epic pileup, one worthy of news crews and gawkers alike.  Words were crushed, sentences mangled, leaving me with a pile of injured, garbled language. I tried to make some sense. Picking up words, dusting them off, placing them back in line. I bandaged dangling modifiers, and stitched compound adjectives.  But, to no avail. They are crumpled and muddled and in a state of shock. They wander around my head, trying to find a place. Then, they give up and slide down the wall to sit and stare. I'm working through the mess. Trying different perspectives, new angles, fresh story lines. I'm sweaty and tired and want nothing more than a nap. But, the tale wi...

I've been trying to think of something to write. Started and stopped several posts- mentally crinkling the paper and throwing it in the trash. Then, last night I had one of those slap-your-forehead-d'oh! moments. Weeks ago, Sleepy Joe  tagged me on her blog.  I was supposed to answer her questions about my book on or around January 9th.  Maybe my inner alarm clock went off, reminding me that I'd agreed to this. Anyway, now I have something to write about. Thank you, Sleepy Joe! (I'm answering these questions about my book that is finished, not the one in progress.) 1-What is the working title of your book? I've had several different titles, this has been a sticking point for me. I recently asked an agent if the title is that important, since the publishers usually change it. She said no, which gave me some relief from my anxiety.  For now, the title is Haven's Gift. 2-Where did the idea come from for the book? (This goes along with # 9) I was working...

Remember that feeling, those fluttery dips and drops in your stomach when 'he' walked by?  He could drive you to distraction with a mere smile.  Where is he now?  Maybe he's in the next room, tied to you with a golden band and a couple of kids.  Mine is miles away, living with his wife and children that I've never met. It seemed he had such power, the future wouldn't be without him. If I saw him now, there would be no coming unglued. I might not even recognize him. There are butterflies taking flight inside me today, though. They have nothing to do with any boy. They have everything to do with my future and the people who, today, are holding it in their hands.  They have the power, with the click of a mouse, to either reject me, sending my hard work to the recycle bin, or to change my life forever.  Do they have any idea how my life hangs in the balance?  That they can tip it one way or another with a yes or no? It's a courtship of sorts. ...

Time flies when you're having fun. Or when you're spending your minutes reading.  It took me several days, with many, many interuptions.  ("Mom, can I have a fruit snack?"    "Mom, I need a drink?"   "Mo-o-om! Max is annoying me!") My children have not grasped the concept of Mom is Working.  They don't think I work.  We won't go into that right now. So, I finished. And, I have to say,  I'm happy.  Happy with my work and happy that it's ready to go out. Shoot. Happy just turned into nervous. I appreciate everyone who commented and guessed. I honestly had no idea how long it would take me.  Turns out, it takes 8 hours and 3 minutes to read my book out loud. (If you're also deleting/adding/editing.)  That means the winner is Michelle , who guessed 8 hours. Wow! Only 3 minutes off. That's some pretty magnificent guessing right there!  (The chapters are on their way to your inbox.) Next, I need to get my query letters s...

This is Causey Reservoir.   It's one of my favorite places in the world.  It sits below the scout camp where Jacob works.   We've been going up twice every weekend to get him and then take him back.  Lots of gas and time, but worth it when my big 18 year-old throws his arms  around me in a bear hug. I think he appreciates home more.  Being away will do that.  This is the collage I made of my characters to inspire me and keep me on track. Today, I finished my editing. Mostly. I got serious butterflies when I reached those words- The End. Now, I need to read the whole thing out loud.  I wonder how long it'll take? 205 pages. Any guesses? Let's make it interesting. Whoever guesses closest (in minutes, not seconds)-  I'll send you the first 4 chapters to read.  Or, I'll send cookies.  (Real ones.) Your choice. You have until Tuesday to submit your guess. Happy Weekend!!

I'm a terrible procrastinator. And, I've been blaming my lack of effort on my book on that.  But, if I look deep inside and come face to face with the truth, I know there's more.  I'm afraid that once I get it done and polished, I still won't be able to find an agent or publisher. So, I've put it off-- for months. Every time I feel frustrated about my life and wonder what to do, I get a gentle reminder of what is sitting inside my laptop waiting for me and my attention.  This morning,I was thinking of immersing myself in writing, and there it was again, all the excuses.  I need to do laundry. The house is a mess. etc.etc.  Fact is, I always need to do laundry and the house is most often a mess. Excuses are being pushed aside. I'm ignoring everything. Hopefully, it won't take too long and I'll be back soon. Take care.

I'm putting myself on a diet of sorts.  The thought came to me last week that I should have a 'media-free' week. When the thought came to me again and again, I knew it was more than a thought. So, here it is.  Thanks to my DVR, the shows I really love will be waiting for me next week.   That way, I won't miss this- The thing that concerns me most about no TV is the news. I watch it everyday. Sort of gives me anxiety to think about missing it.  Guess I'll have my husband keep me informed. No video games. Oh, yeah, I don't play them.  No radio. This will only effect me in the car.  It'll be just me and my thoughts.  Kinda scary. Here's the big one- This means no facebook. (Eeek!) You mean I won't know what clever, informative things my ex-boyfriends, cousins, and distant friends share? Breathe, breathe. No e-mail. Yep. If you want to contact me, you'll have to do it the old fashioned way- And, lastly, no blogging. What?!?!?!!? I know. It's...

Every morning, I turn on my computer, check facebook, try to think of something witty to say, go to my blogs, see if I have comments, see if my friends have posted anything new, read nienie , then cjane . Then, when I can avoid it no longer, my little hand-curser hovers over my gmail icon. I check my email with nervous trepidation these days. I'm waiting, quite impatiently, for a response from a publisher. eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee It's a nail-biting situation, for sure. Like I said before, I've been rejected. I can handle it. That doesn't mean I enjoy it. Or look forward to it. I don't. After going on today and finding just one email, (from Hunter's teacher. SEP conferences-yay.) I still have butterflies. They are reticent to leave the warmth of my stomach, I guess. I figure if I'm going to get a response, it'll be first thing in the morning. Why? I don't know . Maybe it could come later. Great. Now, I'll be nervous all day.

My daughter's friend was over yesterday. When I walked in the room, she said, "Mommy," (two of my kids' friends call me this. I love it.) "what have you been doin' today?" She said this with a little twinkle in her eye. I knew what she was asking. She's read my book and was a little perturbed with the ending-it's a cliff hanger-and has been bugging me to get going on the sequel. I smiled at her and told the truth, "I did laundry, went to the grocery store, vacuumed." She frowned. I gave her a shrug. I haven't been very motivated to write. I'm waiting on a publisher-again- and honestly haven't given it much thought. If you read my other blog, you'll know I've been sewing. I made two bags last week. I was a sewing-maniac! Really. I'm not the kind of person who enjoys sewing. After my mom taught me, (she's a very talented and patient seamstress) I would do the absolute least I could to finish a project. Which, ...

It started with Jordan B. He was blonde and cute. He never kissed me, but we held hands-once. My stomach fluttered every time I saw him. For Valentine's day, he bought me a carnation. True love. As true as any 13 year-old can feel. Then it happened. He dumped me. Rejection is a part of life, we all know this. But, unlike broccoli, I've never developed a taste for it. It tastes just as bitter now as it did in jr. high. If you offered it on a silver platter, I'd have to refuse. Lately, though, I've learned to swallow it with little more than a grimace. It comes from practice. My first book rejection happened over 2 years ago. It was my first novel and I thought it was brilliant. My family supported this idea and I submitted it to a publisher with high hopes. I'd heard all the stories about writers who get rejected over and over. Whatever. That would not happen to me. After 18 months, yes, that's a year and a half, the publishing company finally stopped stringing ...

My heart is racing and my hands are literally shaking. How is it that a simple e-mail (well, 7 actually) could make me such a nervous wreck? Because they are e-mails to book agents and I sent them my query letter. Aaaah! It has taken me about 15 months to finish this novel, including the last few weeks of revising. When I began this undertaking, I really had no idea what I was getting into. Do you have any idea how many people are writing books?? ALOT! Do you know how many get published? Not so much. One of the agents' blogs I read shows how many queries she gets each week and how many she requests the manuscript for. It varies from 150-250 queries and she usually asks for 0 or 1 full manuscript. Not great odds. I didn't know, if I had, it might have intimidated me. The competition is fierce to say the least. So, here I am, a lowly Utah housewife with aspirations to-what? Fame isn't something I crave. I just want my books to sell. Of course, getting them published first wo...