Kaylie blog

Hard work doesn't pay for everyone

2012-01-18T08:38:00.000-08:00

Here's something I found on Facebook. I've been thinking about it ever since. I can't let this one go.

"An economics professor at a local college made a statement that he had never failed a single student before, but had recently failed an entire class. That class had insisted that Obama's socialism worked and that no one would be poor and no one would be rich, a great equalizer.
The professor then said, "OK, we will have an experiment in this class on Obama's plan". All grades will be averaged and everyone will receive the same grade so no one will fail and no one will receive an A.... (substituting grades for dollars - something closer to home and more readily understood by all).
After the first test, the grades were averaged and everyone got a B. The students who studied hard were upset and the students who studied little were happy. As the second test rolled around, the students who studied little had studied even less and the ones who studied hard decided they wanted a free ride too so they studied little..
The second test average was a D! No one was happy. When the 3rd test rolled around, the average was an F. As the tests proceeded, the scores never increased as bickering, blame and name-calling all resulted in hard feelings and no one would study for the benefit of anyone else. To their great surprise, ALL FAILED and the professor told them that socialism would also ultimately fail because when the reward is great, the effort to succeed is great, but when government takes all the reward away, no one will try or want to succeed. It could not be any simpler than that.
Remember, there IS a test coming up. The 2012 elections."

First of all, regardless of what you think of Obama or socialism, Obama is not a socialist. I used to live in Canada, which is not quite as socialist as Europe, but trust me on this--the US comes nowhere near other developed countries in terms of socialist tendencies. Obama hasn't even tried to put socialist policies in place. The middle class is still diminishing, and the gap between rich and poor is wider than ever. Doesn't sound like socialism to me.
Secondly, hard work and high pay can go together, but often don't. While it's nice to believe that those who put in the hours and finish what they start will be rewarded, it's often not true. Most rich people become that way by owning business or owning property. Some inherited their money. I'm not saying it's easy to own a business or to take care of rental property. If you do either of these, your day is most likely filled with chaos, deadlines, and hassles. What I am saying, though, is that if you work at Walmart or prepare taxes or clean buildings for a living, getting ahead is difficult. This is especially true if you're a woman or a minority. There's enough discrimination out there that even if you work hard, your pay doesn't necessarily match your work. Men who are in charge tend to promote other men, even if they don't think they're discriminating.
Third, a college class is hardly a microcosm of American society. A typical college class is made up of young, single people with few demands upon their time. There might be slightly more women than men, and there might be some minorities, but as far as college is concerned, most people fit into a single demographic. The level of their work is, for the most part, up to them. There are a few exceptions, of course, but most students are not parents (at the bachelor's level, anyway), and do not have the same responsibilities working adults do.
College might make it seem like men and women are pretty equal. More women enroll in undergraduate programs. More graduating doctors and lawyers are female than male.
But when they get out into the working world, it's another story. Women earn 77 cents for every male dollar. After all the laws that were passed in the 60's and 70's, the wage gap began closing, but then, it started widening again. It's not getting any better.
This is true in every field. Male doctors, lawyers, non-profit employees, custodians, teachers, and nurses all get paid more than women.
So, if we were to translate this into grades, men would be getting A's. Women would get C's. Minority women such as Latinas and blacks? Failing at 58 percent and C- at 70 percent, respectively. You can't tell me that Latina and African-American women don't work hard (These numbers, by the way, measure only full-time workers, not mothers who cut back their hours or stay home to raise children).
Women on the job are not paid as well as men. They start out, on average, at about 91 cents to a man's dollar after graduation. This is unfair in itself, but not a huge gap, right? Well, the gap only gets bigger because raises are usually given as a percentage. So, as they continue their careers the gap widens.
Then, if they become mothers, the mommy penalty is huge. Women who are mothers are offered lower positions and wages than non-mothers. Pregnant women still get fired and demoted all the time, even though that's illegal. Some women who try to break into the men-only club in non-traditional jobs (or higher positions) encounter hostility. And others get sexually harassed to the point that their working environment is traumatic. Some women might complain, but many need their jobs and can't afford to.
So, because of Obama, we're all supposed to earning the same grade and it makes us all lazy? Hey, I'm all for capitalism (I don't think Chairman Mao's ideas worked so well in China), but calling our current system (which Obama has done little to change) an incentive for hard work is only realistic if you're a white male. You can't level out the playing field if you won't even let some of the players off the sidelines.

Rocky takes a breather

2011-12-31T22:45:00.000-08:00

I decided to be brave--I re-read my fourth draft. It's my best draft yet.
And still, it needs so much work (I was going to say sucks, but I'm thinking positively here).
The beginning is actually pretty good. The ending is not so bad. But the middle--ah, the middle is another story. No, really, it's another story. And that's the problem.
I drift off into some other world, along with my characters. Whole chapters go by where my characters do nothing but think. Characters get dropped or picked up out of nowhere. Still.
Sometimes I wish I had another weakness. Because if you're not so good at plot, that means you have to restructure entire novels when they fall apart. If you stink at say, description or grammar, it doesn't (usually) affect the whole novel very much.
But being good at character has its perks, though. My friend Kelley once said that you can fix almost anything else in a novel as long as you have good characters. And I think she's right. But in my case, I fix it, and fix it, and fix it, and fix it...
I know now, better than ever, what I need to do to fix things. There will still be some tearing apart. But right now, Rocky's worn out from all his fighting, and he just wants to towel off for a while. And, being the nice author I am, I think I'm going to let him.
But don't worry. Rocky's a fighter. He won't stay down for long.

From my website...

2011-12-29T14:20:00.000-08:00

I'm still working on the website (an LDS-based family-friendly workplace resource), and it's taking forever. Right now, I'm aiming for a launch date of April. I plan to have the writing part finished in January or February, but there's still lots of work to do after I finish all the writing and linking. A short list: find a board of directors (any volunteers?), get a logo, get tax-exempt status, write press releases, set up a newsletter, set up donation capability, make a budget, get personal stories from people, get input from others, recruit people in other states...did I miss anything?
Anyway, here's an excerpt from the "culture wars" section. Be warned, it's got an LDS slant to it, just in case you don't go for that sort of thing. I don't want it to be obnoxiously preachy, though, so if I cross the line there, please do tell. Here goes:

"LDS women face many dilemmas as they make decisions about work and family. Religious beliefs aside, there are already plenty of conflicting messages from society about how women should behave and what women should do. Most mothers are well acquainted with the guilt that seems to come wrapped up with the baby blankets.

Everyone seems to have an opinion--from television role models to parenting experts to politicians. Since reality doesn't match what they see or what they hear, women develop their own ideal, depending less on media or parental models and more on themselves. But with little experience from their parents and contradicting expectations from society, women have no practical way to check whether or not they're "measuring up". They just do the best they can and hope they get it right.

Within the LDS Church, things can be confusing, too. Many LDS women grew up hearing about the importance of motherhood and the value of mothers being home. Many of them had dreams of marriage and children and home life, and waited to find someone who could help make it possible. Others had dreams beyond family life, such as education and career ambitions. But when life threw a few surprises their way, many women didn't know how to reconcile their situations with what they had been taught. Some didn't marry. Others didn't have children, and some became divorced. Some women's husbands lost their jobs unexpectedly and others just simply couldn't afford the mortgage and groceries on one income. Some expected to lose themselves in the joy of raising their children and were surprised at how much they missed being sharing their talents and abilities with the world. And some women stayed home and loved it.

There are nearly as many situations as there are women, and that's what makes these decisions difficult. And when it seems like everyone has an idea about what women should do, it quickly becomes apparent that no single person can possibly meet all these expectations.

Before a woman is a mother or a wife, before she faces her loads of laundry or punches in for the day, before she fills any role or responsibility that she either chooses or is given, she is first and foremost a daughter of God. She is a person with unique gifts, whose value lies in who she is, and not merely what she can do for others. As she finds solutions and asks for guidance, she can find the best uses for her talents within her particular situation, whether that's in the workplace, the home, the community, the Church, or some combination of these. It's easier to face criticism (whether it comes from others or from within) when she knows that her direction comes from above."

Twice in one month

2011-11-29T21:38:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. You've all been staring at your computer screens with your tongues hanging out, waiting for the next post, because that's what kind of loyal fans you are. Your faith in me is about to be rewarded. I'm posting twice in one month.

Lately I've taken some time off from the crazy writing frenzy (though I did attend the most excellent SCBWI editor day this month) both to work on my website and work on my brain. The work on my website is going well. That's partly because I don't bang it against the wall the same way I do my head. Websites just don't respond to ouch therapy.

For those of you not in the know (uh--probably almost everybody), I'm building a site about work-family issues. I'm envisioning a non-profit that takes action to make workplaces more family friendly, and eventually (when the kids get a little older) I'll branch out into consulting. That's right. I bet all you Dilbert fans are proud.

'Cause guess what, world? The workplace is not family-friendly! Shocking, I know. Although there are many, many issues I could discuss, I plan to focus on just five or six at first. Here's what families need: flexible work, sick leave, child care, elder care, parental leave, and most of all, a way to discuss these issues, both inside and outside of work.

Scary thought: Eighty percent of low-wage workers don't have any paid sick leave. So, if they can't afford to take a day off work, many of them come to work anyway. Guess who the low-wage workers are? Food service, child care, and health care workers. Would you like a flu-infected worker to sneeze on your food, your kid, or Grandma? Not good. And if a worker's kid gets sick, too? The kid will be sneezing all over your kid at school. So, needless to say, I'm a big believer in paid sick leave.

Also, since you were wondering about the brain work I mentioned earlier, I'm recovering nicely from my frontal lobotomy, so thanks for asking. And I'm recovering from my self-help books, too. They're teaching me to think happy thoughts. Well, OK, there's more to it than that. But I think they might be on to something. Scalpel not included.

My Life Lately

2011-11-09T13:49:00.001-08:00

Other than the usual household chaos, here's what I've been up to lately:
1. Long-lost family members visited. This year, I've seen both my sisters face-to-face. It's been FIVE years. It sure won't be until the next visit, though.
2. Went to a Women in Business conference at BYU. I ate some very yummy food, wore grown-up clothes, and tried to figure out what I'm going to be when I grow up. Also saw my friend Diana--it's been a lot longer than five years.
3. Wrote and sent off a Boys' Life article. It was my first feature for them. Wahoo!
4. Finished my fourth draft. Yeah, baby! I know it still needs work (and about 10K less words), but this time, I'm more confident about how to do that. I haven't decided if I'm going to send poor beaten-down Rocky out to the world or finish fixing him myself first. In either case, he's worn out and needs to rest for a few weeks.
5. Figured some stuff out.

I decided I'm going to start a non-profit website to help businesses become more family-friendly. It will mainly be a resource. I hope at some point to become a work/life consultant, but not yet. I want to focus first on getting people together to talk about these issues, and raise awareness. Like, for example, did you know that sick leave is not a legal right in most places in the US (including Utah)? So what does a mom with a sick kid do?

I'll blog more about it as it gets going. Right now, I'm building the site and I'm getting excited because what this girl wants, more than anything, is to make a difference.

All right, all right, I'll blog already!

2011-09-27T20:13:00.000-07:00

If you're wondering what happened to my blog lately, wonder no more.
I've been in crisis mode.
It hasn't been pretty.
I think it can all be summed up in these words from an interview in the book Opting Out by Pamela Stone: "I've had enough of being at home, but yet I need to be at home."
The worst of the crisis has passed, which was when I was in my staring-at-nothing phase. All I could do for those few days was sit on the front step, stare into space, and read feminist books.
Then I got into my angry-at-everyone phase. This was where I flew into a rage at anyone who suggested that women had a "role" to do. I may or may not have thrown a certain new blue-covered book for women across the room--I'll let you figure that one out for yourself. Yes, I was mad that I had believed for years that women were supposed to take care of houses and kids once they started having babies, because it wasn't as rosy as I had imagined. But really, I was more mad at myself for not having prepared myself for a career better when I had the chance, and for sitting around feeling sorry for myself instead of making changes.
Now I'm morphing into the now-what phase (though I occasionally still want to take people's heads off when they start talking about the art of homemaking). I've flirted off and on with this phase for years, anyway, you know, checking the classifieds for job listings, counting down the years until M. is in school all day....But now, I'm trying a little harder. I'm querying magazines more aggressively, writing a couple pages in my novel per day, and contacting people I think might be able to help me get to the next step (the work/life field).
But it doesn't feel like I'm doing much. It feels like more of the same. I know it takes time when you're looking for a new direction, but things don't feel much different than they did before since I'm doing the same kinds of things. I know I'm not ready for full-time work yet, but opportunities don't exactly drop from the sky.
So if you know of an opportunity fairy who'd love to drop some freelance work/life-related writing work my way, send her right here. And while you're at it, tell her to bring along that money fairy buddy of hers, too.

My world shrinks

2011-08-18T11:12:00.000-07:00

In this case, shrink does not refer to my needing professional help, though if things continue the way they have been, that just might change.

When we were in Las Vegas recently, we lost M. She was right behind us, then suddenly, she wasn't. It took us a while to find her. We were just getting to our hotel room. We hadn't been there long enough to figure out where everything was. We put the boys in the room, told them to stay put, and took off running up and down the halls. We checked the pools, we checked the stairwell. We couldn't hear her or see her anywhere. I ran back to our room and called security and they helped us look. After I don't know how many minutes, a guy in uniform said, "Ma'am, they found her. She's with your husband."

Lots of weird things go through your head at a moment like that. I figured we'd probably find her, because, after all, non-family child abductions are pretty rare, and it wasn't very likely a two-year-old could find her own way out to the street from where we were. But still, if I was wrong, and we had to leave without her...well, I couldn't imagine, so I imagined finding her instead.
When a crisis hits, all the things I worry about don't seem so important.

Then, last week, most of us (the healthy fairy was smiling down on Mark) got a nasty stomach virus. Recovering from this sickness meant a lot of lying around in bed and a lot of laundry. But poor little K didn't seem to recover on his own. He'd bring up everything we fed him, even water. This went on for nearly two full days before I decided we should take him in. I wasn't well enough to cart him around, so Mark got the honor of taking him to the doctor. They found out he was dehydrated and considered checking him into the hospital before they decided that maybe they could treat him there. So after much driving around to get tests and prescriptions, Mark and K. got home at 1:30 am.

You'd think I would have learned the uselessness of worrying by now, but no. It's so easy to imagine worst-case scenarios when it's late at night, you're tired, and there's nobody else there to pretend to be fine for. And so again, my little world became pint-sized, and the messy house, my hundreds of little projects, and the children's bedtimes didn't matter so much.

But if you're imagining these experiences changed me and put my life in perspective, you have awfully high expectations of me. All it took was a few episodes of Hoarders and pretty soon I was a house-cleaning maniac again. I wouldn't want to have my priorities straight or anything. If you watch enough TV, you can get cured from just about any moral improvement.

2011-08-12T17:47:00.000-07:00

I totally hate decisions.

Well, not really.

Maybe.

Let me think about it for a while.

I love way too many things, and I'm starting to think it might be a good idea to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I'm so scattered it feels like I'm running around in circles.

Most of my projects have been on hold since the birthday/baptism/vacation/family crises started. I was a little insane as I tried to prepare for all these activities: making phone calls, baking, preparing pizza crusts, buying presents, sending out invitations, checking details, packing, etc. And, miraculously enough, I survived them all.

L's birthday party was fun, we came back from Las Vegas in one piece (though we nearly lost our poor girl at the hotel), he actually did get baptized, and my family members caught their plane home.

Then M. got sick Sunday night. And since my kids absorbed their lessons on sharing a little too well, I got sick, K. got sick, and L. got sick. I'm still recovering.

But guess what? In the meantime I got an Etsy order! Wouldn't want to let a little sickness stop me! I started sewing some sheets, even though I could barely stand up, because I felt sorry for the lady who is due to deliver twins within days and needs a special size for her babies. I'm like the post office. Sleet, hail, sickness...it doesn't matter, you can depend on me.

So all this sickness and sewing has kept me from my typical activities. Remember that novel in its fourth draft I've been working on? Haven't looked at it for about a month. My amazing business idea of helping workplaces become more family-friendly? Um, it's still a great idea. Flute? Well, luckily for me, there's no orchestra or flute choir rehearsals for another couple weeks.

The thing is, I might be successful at any one of these endeavors if I could pick one and go with it. In the words of the immortal Crush, "Focus, dude!"

photo source

But I hate to give anything up. If I choose one, I'll have to scale way back on the others. I can't imagine being without writing. Or giving up on my business idea. No music in my life? I don't think so. Not sew? Well, where's the fun in that? But I also know, as long as I cling to all of my activities, I'll be too scattered to do well at any of them.

So I guess I just haven't learned to establish priorities and make decisions. But I'm going to have to choose sooner or later.

Maybe.

Infestation

2011-07-28T07:36:00.000-07:00

In a few hours, I'm going to have about eight little boys in my house. I have way too much to do to finish getting ready. So what am I going to do about it?

Procrastinate.

Some people love their kids' birthday parties. They choose some cutesy theme and get way into it. They stay up multiple nights, sewing elaborate decorations and buying fondant to decorate that cake just so.

Now, if you know me at all, you'd think I'm the creative type. I sew, I write, I play the flute. But guess what? When it comes to the domestic arts, I'm a few cupcakes short of adorable.

Take the cake, for instance. L. wanted a Lego theme party, so I thought I'd make him a Lego cake. No problem. Just bake a flat cake, and then bake some mini-cupcakes and turn them upside down for the connectors.

Well, it ended up looking like a flat cake with meatballs on top.

FAIL! I also made Rice Krispie treat Legos. Sort of. I tried to fill up some water balloons and I ended up with sore fingers and broken balloons (note to self for next year: cheap water balloons are just that--cheap).

Then, for my most brilliant move, I took the younger kids with me to buy L's presents. They got home and told him exactly what he was getting.

This is going to damage my can-do attitude. With domestic diva crossed off my list, my to-do list has shrunk. Maybe when the party's over, I'll get real crazy and put sleeping back on there.

Take a listen!

2011-06-29T12:30:00.001-07:00

Announcing...Flautissimo's 2011 spring concert, for those of you who missed it (I think that would be ALL of you who are reading this), for your listening pleasure, at my blog, www.kaylieblog.blogspot.com. It's on the sidebar at the right. Just click, play, and listen. Please. 'Cause it took me about an hour to convert all those files and upload them. Then tell me how great is sounds so I know all my hard work is not in vain.

Old Trauma Time

2011-06-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when you're writing (especially if you're writing about teenagers and/or the place where you grew up), you have to write about something that hits close to home, something that brings back less than pleasant memories.

Here are some of mine, all in one big yellow package:
Photo credit

Maybe some of you city dwellers never had to deal with one of these on a regular basis. But I did, nearly every day.

When I was little, I remember being so, so scared to cross the busy highway after I got off the bus. For a long time, I needed a big kid helper. I remember being terrified that my bus driver, Lorna, would yell at me for doing it wrong.

Then, when I got older, it got even scarier. When you're one of the last people to get on the bus, you don't get many choices about where you sit. And if you're not the popular type, your bus seat status might be less than stellar. People might even refuse to sit by you. So then you have to walk up and down, back and forth, hoping somebody will let you in. Maybe one of the little kids. And then the bus driver has to yell back at all the bus people for someone to let you sit with them.

When you finally sit down, you wait for either someone to find something nasty to say about you, or for the other person to let you know they're not going to talk to you so you'll have to ride the whole way to school in silence, and you're not sure if this is better or worse than what they might say if they spoke to you.

But the thing that makes a school bus worse than a school cafeteria is that whatever people say, they have a built-in audience. Including you. Even if you're not sitting directly beside the mean ones, you're going to hear every insult, and so will everyone else.

Traumatic, you think? Sure, but it's great novel-writing material. And the best part is, my characters get to rise above those mean nasty bus-riding bullies. They can tell them off in a way I never could. That's why the pen is mightier than the sword. It can slay a whole busload of rude, self-absorbed meanies in a single stroke. That school bus is going down, baby.

Note to self: Stuff not to write

2011-05-25T11:38:00.000-07:00

Here are some plots I've been reading a little too much of lately:

1. The angsty teen. This girl/guy is way messed up. He/she is in major self-destruct mode. This person is on drugs/ driving drunk/ flunking school/ suicidal or all of the above, messed up because they want to die. Death seems like a picnic compared to their life, which is filled with backstabbing friends, an abusive relationship, clueless teachers, and screwed-up parents. But wait, it gets worse. The real reason our hero hopes to meet death in a dark alley is because....

2. Teen thinks he/she is responsible for someone else's death. Yup, there was a terrible accident. Lost soul-type friend/ innocent little sibling/ perfect parent would still be alive if our hero hadn't failed to save the day. He/ she is guilty of Being in the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time. Except, of course, it wasn't really our hero's fault. But since our hero doesn't have a time travel machine to go back and fix things, he/she is buried under a mountain of guilt, but puts on a brave face and rebuffs everyone who tries to break through said Brave Face. Everyone, that is, except for...

3. The tortured relationship that will eventually end in bliss. Hero and love interest meet, and ka-pow! They are struck by the amazing insight that Hot Girl/ Boy is, though perhaps a little quirky, awesome--unlike everyone else at Rich Snob High. But alas, the First Twist happens as Love Interest hugs another person! Oh, no, misunderstanding ensues! Fortunately, the Other Person ends up being a relative, like a sibling or cousin. Phew. Crisis averted. But then, Major Crisis time. One discovers a horrible secret in the other's past, and thinks this is the end of their relationship, because this means that Other Person is not as perfect as previously thought. "What? She's not perfect? She should have told me that. I seriously thought she walked a different plane than the rest of us mere mortals. Now, not only is she not perfect, she's a liar, too, for keeping this from me." This all leads up to the Great Reconciliation in which Love Goddess reveals that she actually had a noble reason for not revealing her secret. This restores her status to perfection and everyone lives happily ever after.

You like my new background?

2011-05-23T12:37:00.000-07:00

I sure hope so. I'm not sure where it came from, but I started playing with backgrounds and templates today, and now I can't remove it. At least, I don't want to take the time to figure out where the code from this background (which I used months and months ago) is sitting. But the good things about this wallpaper is I don't have to worry too much about coordinating furniture.

Announcing Flautissimo's spring concert

2011-05-07T13:35:00.001-07:00

It's that time of year again, when Flautissimo gets out all their shiny instruments to play their spring concert. Here are the details:

Flautissimo Spring Concert--
Around the World and Beyond
Saturday, May 14th, 7:30 pm
Westminster Presbyterian Church
796 South Mountain Road
Admission and refreshments are FREE!

Memories of East Tennessee, by Austin Alan Scott
Praise the Lord with Flutes, by Sigfrid Karg-Elert
In the Village from Caucasian Sketches by Ippolitov-Ivanov
Danse Bacchinale from Samson and Delilah by Saint-Saens
Adventures in Space by Ricky Lombardo
Lyric Pieces by Edvard Grieg
and more!

structure and stuff

2011-05-06T11:57:00.000-07:00

While I'm working on Rocky 4.0, if I get a moment to take a breath, sometimes I think about my next book. It's been in the works for a while, but I've been focusing on Rocky. Which is good, 'cause I think concentrating on one book and refining it helps me more as a writer than dozens of scattered projects do.

I've written about 100 pages in the Alzheimer's book, but I was so frustrated with structure. I wanted to include some memories from the past, and have those memories be a major part of the book, but most of the action is to take place in the present. Every time I tried to plan it out, it just wasn't working for me. I tried alternating chapters present/past, but that didn't work because it was obvious from the get-go what had happened in the past. I tried flashback form within the present, but that required lots of awkward transitioning and it wasn't a very balanced novel because so much of the past had to fit into the narrative.

Then I read Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A.S. King.

Ah, nothing like stealing ideas from another author. It was perfect! This novel is written in scenes instead of full chapters. Some scenes take place in the past, others in the present, and others from someone else's perspective. She starts each scene with a heading telling where and when the action takes place, so no awkward transitions.

So, for my next book, I'll be trying something new. That's right, I'll be abandoning the traditional chapter form completely. But it's the only way it makes sense--a nearly random structure for a book about scattered memories. It's always a little daunting to try something new on a huge scale like a novel. But I'll have A.S. King to guide me.

What fun is writing if you can't plagiarize while you're at it?

Ann Crittenden is my new best friend

2011-04-18T14:47:00.000-07:00

Those of you who read my FB posts know I'm obsessed with goals. I can't help it. I'm an overachiever wrapped up in a baby-lovin' body. Speaking of which, I've been thinking hard lately. One of the leaders of my church mentioned that workplaces need to become more family-friendly. My brain did a happy dance, and we all know what that means. Ideas falling out all over the dance floor!

My brain started to wax nostalgic for its favorite soapboxes and injustices, so I went to my local library to dig up The Price of Motherhood by Ann Crittenden. Subtitle: Why the Most Important Job in the World Is Still the Least Valued. Yeah, baby. What was that I just heard? The echoes of battle drums?

In a nutshell, though we all love our mamas with our lips, we don't value their work with our dollars. Moms who work outside the home find advancement nearly impossible due to umsympathetic workplaces (ie, no paid maternity leave, no part-time benefits, and no allowances for parental responsibilities). Mothers who stay home aren't paid or even acknowledged for their efforts, and if they return to work, they have to start over.

So, thought I, why not make the family-friendly workplace my job? I could consult with businesses, help women pioneer real-life benefits in their jobs, and write about problems and solutions. I'll spare you the numbers for now, but let's just say that for all its supposed child-friendly attitudes, Utah's workplace policies lag way behind.

The possibilities are endless: paid parental leave, on-site daycare, prorated pay and benefits for part-time workers, job sharing, etc. I could go on.

So after I got all fired up, I decided to see what other fine prose has come from Crittenden lately. I checked out If You've Raised Kids, You Can Manage Anything. Are you laughing yet? That's because you know it's true, right? I don't think most bosses really believe that. But it was reassuring to me, at least.

Here are some skills nearly every child demands of its parents (and they all translate into valuable workplace skills): multitasking, negotiation, listening, patience, empathy, appreciating differences, developing others' capabilities, letting go, consistency, and perspective. Smart bosses recognize that parents often possess these skills, and value parenting in their employees for the assets it creates. For example, one parent who was negotiating international peace treaties recognizes that the parties involved were just insecure children at heart. She used her empathy skills successfully and made changes that affected millions of people.

I don't know where my ideas will lead. We all know I'm never short of them. If you have any extra ideas for me, please keep them to yourself--I've got plenty. If, on the other hand, you have some extra lifetimes you could lend me to fit all this stuff in, send them my way.

For Hard-Core Doctor Who Fans Only

2011-03-30T10:38:00.000-07:00

If you're reading this on Facebook, you'll have to go to my blog to see it.

"The wibbly lever!"

Intangibles

2011-03-19T08:37:00.000-07:00

You've read before about how I love me some numbers when I write. Nothing like cold, hard digits to prove you're getting somewhere. See? Look, I wrote 1000 words today. Can't dispute that.

The funny thing about life is you can't measure everything you do. Yes, I'm just figuring this out, but I'm a little slow on the life lesson stuff. They don't tell you this when you're in school and they definitely don't grade you on it. They really should put a number to it so I could relate.

This can't-measure stuff is hard for me to grasp. Isn't that what we're raised to believe, though? Success is something you can prove with grades, promotions, salary, house size, weight, etc. That's what the goal-making gurus always tell me, too. Don't make vague general goals like "be kinder to animals", because how will you know when you've succeeded? Your goals should be something you can tally up because then, to paraphrase George Banks from Mary Poppins, you'll achieve that sense of conquest.

He's right about that. I eat that stuff up. The fitness DVD I use has three levels. Yay! I'm super ninja kick-butt mama when I can graduate from one level to the next. Wow, I'm super-nerdy writing maniac mama when I put 1,000 words on the page. Huzzah, I'm super domestic diva mama when I put 5.5 loads of laundry in the dryer in one day.

But what about the things you can't measure? Like this week, for instance, when my CPs told me about some problems with my third-draft Rocky novel. The next step is, get this, to think about it. How do the characters relate to each other? How do they interact at school? What is their motivation in each chapter? Thinking does not add words to the page. But it makes the novel better. And knowing I need to think about those problems for this novel will make me a better writer because I'll have to think about the same things in other novels.

But how do you measure it? "I had 3.3 thoughts about my characters today"? You can't. And yet, that's where I'll make the most progress.

It's the same with children. Nobody counts how many hours I spent on the couch with my kids yesterday, trying to get them to stop screaming for no apparent reason. Nobody but them noticed the snuggles I gave them when it was dish-doing time. Yet those things matter most.

In the words of Einstein, "Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted."
Photo source
He knew what he was talking about. Though some moments of inspiration come when I'm typing madly away, many (the big, important ones) come when I'm in the shower, or lying around in bed, or doing nothing at all.
So if you see me this week and it looks like I'm sitting around being completely unproductive, don't be fooled. My internal genius is at work. Do not disturb.

Random feminist rant

2011-02-28T19:49:00.000-08:00

So, lately we've made a few visits to the car repair shop, because we were starting to feel like we didn't get out enough, and what better place to party than good ol' Goodyear? They have--get this--vending machines. Now, if you don't think that's any fun, you haven't been trapped in a waiting room with two squirmy children for long enough.

Anyhoo, these vending machine explorations do not come cheaply. Shove enough toys (brought from home, of course) inside one of those and you could easily end up dropping a few hundred before long. Candy is getting more and more expensive these days. Must be inflation.

So I put a little more on the good ol' plastic than I usually do. Funny how metal and plastic don't mix, isn't it? And I started to get awfully close to my credit limit.

Now, before you all gasp in horror at my Big-Time Spending Habits, let me assure you of something: My credit limit is low.Photo source

Really low.

Low as in I can only return stuff on it because a positive balance is too high. Low as in sometimes my pocket burns when my credit card gets too close to Satan. Low as in limbo star.

I've called before to try to fix this problem. Why won't they increase my limit? Because my income is too low.

Being a (mostly) SAHM means, of course, that I don't bring in the bacon. Or the pork or the beef, but then I'm not a red meat eater anyway. The credit card powers-that-be worry their silly little financial heads that I won't have the means to pay them back, should my debts reach four digits.
Photo source
Guess what, financial heads? My ham (sorry, honey, you know I can't help the puns) of a husband might be the one who's issued a W-2 from his employer, but guess who controls most of the spending? That's right, me. I happen to have a wedding ring, and in most parts of the world (we're not sure about Mozambique), that means we are entitled to pool our money. Joint bank accounts, joint tax returns, etc. The checks have both our names on them. And if silly little SAHM barefoot (but not pregnant) me overspends, it has exactly the same effect as it would if Mr. Manly W-2 Bacon Man of the House did the same. We'd be equally broke.

So I told them about how I'm, you know, married, and live in the same house and share not just three squirmy vending machine-raiding children, but also a mortgage, a bank account (at their bank), and a whole lotta random junk.

They had a solution for this most annoying problem. Get him to co-sign, they said. That's right, get Mr. Crispy with a Side of Eggs (and all this time I thought bacon was the side dish) to say he'll take care of you and pay for you and maybe even tie your shoes for you while he's at it.

I don't think so.

He's not vouching for me, a woman ten months his senior, because he sits in a cubicle all day. Just because he's a tech geek does not mean he can budget or clip coupons better than me.

I guess I could take my business elsewhere. Show them who doesn't wear the pantsuit in this family. Get a credit card somewhere else--I get enough offers in the mail. But I don't want to pay their interest rates, and I don't want to give in.

So I'll suffer and bite my nails to see if my credit card still goes through when it comes dangerously close to its limit. Groceries? Who needs them?

I can always buy snacks at the vending machine.

What now?

2011-02-22T11:59:00.001-08:00

In case you missed the FB post, I finished. Yup. Rocky 3.0 (not the book's real name) is done, again. And now, I don't know what to do with myself.
Yes, the manuscript still needs work, especially the second half. I've got another WIP that's been sitting on my hard drive, untouched, for months. It's going to rock. I think. I've also got an article due way soon.
I don't want to do any of it. I've got finger block. It makes my fingers itch.
Just so you understand the origins of this terrible disease, it began by typing 1000 + words a day. A great exercise to keep my butt in the chair. The problem is, once my fingers hit the keyboard, they itch to pound it. And now, MS finished, they can't.
I'm not going to revisit my manuscript until it sits in my hard drive for a while. This is necessary to get some distance between us because let's face it, this relationship was getting way too intense.
I'm not going to start writing the other book until I reread what I've already done. It's been a long-distance relationship for a while, and you can't just start where you left off with an old flame.
I can't really start the article until I do more research.
There is no way to cure this seven-month itch.
My fingers want to type something useful, but the brain doesn't have any waves to send down to the digits. I don't want to do anything (I earned this break, and I'm going to rest or else!) , but I can't break the habit of working. So if I sit here with vibrating fingers and nothing coherent comes out my fingers, you'll know why.
Free Cell, anyone?

Happy Posting Day

2011-02-14T12:31:00.000-08:00

Happy hearts, sphere. I decided to commemorate this occasion (also known as SAD, an acronym for Singles Awareness Day or Spousal Let's-See-If-His-Awareness-Extends-To-Buying-Me-Flowers Day. No wait, that would be SLIHAETBMFD and that's just vulgar) by doing something really wild and crazy.

That's right, I'm posting. I have a good excuse. Two of them, actually. Yo, I'm busy writing my novel. And the other is poster's block. Or is that bloggy block?

1. So how is my novel going? So glad you asked. 77k words right now with two chapters to go after the one I'm working on. We're in the home stretch now. And you know what that means, right? Sprint, baby, sprint!

Scene setting? Silliness!
Symbolism? Superfluous!
Syntax? Bah, I say, who needs it?I bet you thought I was going to alliterate again, didn't you? That's me, always surprising the reader. Though if it really bugs you, you can throw a senseless in there for me.

I'm burning up the track now, so I'm not going to worry about silly little details like logic, plot, timelines, and sense. There will be plenty of time for that later. On the what, fourth, fifth, and sixth drafts? Yes, sphere, there really is a book on my computer. Yes, the third draft feels more like the first right now. Yes, my critique group will tear it apart and I'll probably have to redo the whole thing. Enough already. Stop pouring salt in it, OK? You are a relentless bunch.

2. Poster's block. I think my book is sucking out all my creative juices so that there's nothing left for bloggy stuff. My MC is a fighter, so maybe he's been throwing a few too many blows to my head. I don't know. All I know is, sometimes I don't know what all 43 of my readers care about, and I have a deep, abiding hatred for blog prompts. You know what I mean, right? Start every post with a different letter, or tell us 834 unique things about you.

*This is not meant to offend my bloggy buds who do this regularly. Your bloggy brain bank is empty. I get it. Believe me. You gotta do what you gotta do.*

Not for me. I get angry when someone tries to tell me what to write. I won't do it, do you hear? I am going to show my rebel side and say NO. There, that felt good, just like the voices in my head told me it would.

I think we need a new holiday for writers. Anybody want to write to Congress and demand a Voices-in-my-Head Day? After all, the voices are people, too.

What I've Learned Lately

2011-01-27T22:49:00.000-08:00

I'm a numbers person. Scratch that, I'm a words person, but words are even more fun when you attach numbers to them. I like to set goals and give myself imaginary gold stars when I achieve them. It's not easy. I mean, you have no idea how many stores I had to visit to find myself some imaginary gold stars for my goal charts. So here's what I've learned:

1. If you set goals, you're more likely to achieve them. I decided I wanted to write a thousand words a day. This does not mean I get to beat myself up if I only write 997, because that kind of thing hurts, and bruises are not productive. It means if I only write 400 words, I see if I can come up with another scene instead of giving up 'cause thinking hurts my brain too much.

2. I recently read Glimpse by Carol Lynch Williams and Across the Universe by Beth Revis. Guess what I figured out? Their chapter lengths were never, ever the same. Not even remotely consistent. Whoa--you can make a sentence into a chapter if you want to? That's right, world. No hand is going to burst out of the computer monitor to punch my lights out for the offense of chapters that are too short. No, let's save beating myself up for those K minus three days when I must be punished. Chapters can be--get this--however long I want them to be! But don't count on it happening too often. We wouldn't want to let our readers down. They're all expecting nine or ten pages, you know. They're counting. Sure, they say. All that stuff about likeable characters, plot development, and intrigue and suspense? We don't need it 'cause we're busy counting the pages.
I'm not ready to commit to less than four pages yet, but after a few deep breaths and lots of therapy, I may be able to let my chapters go at eight and a half pages.

Life before the internet

2011-01-14T20:49:00.000-08:00

This week, I had a song stuck in my head. It was from a cassette tape that I used to listen to on long car trips. I remembered just one line from the song. So what did I do? I searched the internet. Eventually I found the song, though I needed some mommy intervention to track down the artist because in my madness, I decided I had to have the EXACT arrangement I remembered from my youth or my brain would explode and leave random musical notes all over the floor.

So in honor of my gotta-know crazies, let's celebrate by discussing what we used to do in the monochrome-monitor days before the web.

1. If you had a line from a song stuck in your head, you ended up in a lovely padded room wearing a straitjacket. Because if you couldn't match that one lonely line with its song by doing a Google search, you went crazy, hearing the same lyrics in your brain over and over.

2. If you had a research project, you went to the library. If your homework was due the next day and the library was across town and there was a major snowstorm, you broke out your snowshoes because failure was not an option.

3. To find out what happened on TV, you waited for the morning news. So if you were watching the last game of the World Series and you answered the phone because you didn't have caller ID and it turned out to be a telemarketer in those prehistoric pre-Do Not Call days, and you missed the last inning while the salesman tried to convince you that his brand of pepper spray would really keep you safe from thugs though you actually wished you could use it on him for interrupting the game, and you missed the bottom half, well, you'd have to tough it out for several hours until you either read the paper or watched the news.

4. Encyclopedias weren't all that bad. Sure, they were heavy, took up lots of space in your dining room, and cost about three house payments for a set, which sacrifice you made so your children would be up-to-date on current events, at least until they drew all over them with their crayons and tore the vellum-thin paper into strips for their paper-mâché art project. But they were the key of knowledge! They were filled with information about current events, or at least they were current the year you bought them. It wasn't until they had fifteen years' worth of dust on them that you realized that maybe, just maybe, they weren't so current anymore.

5. If you wanted to stay in touch with your camp buddies, you exchanged addresses. Better hope you had a good place to keep that scrap o' ever-loving forever-friends scrawl of snail mail info, because if not, sayonara, buddy! If you couldn't put a stamp on it, your friendship was toast.

And also, if you were a writer, you sent all your queries and manuscripts by snail mail. It took several days to reach its destination each way. And I think I have to wait a long time for editors now! Although, now that I think about it, maybe it evened out the playing field a little bit. There weren't as many writers in those days. Who wants to meet a deadline by trekking to the library wearing snowshoes to research (by perusing encyclopedias, naturally), write, and edit an article so it will be ready for the post office several days in advance?

New Year's resolutions are for people who don't have hiccups

2011-01-04T17:36:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again, when, in a moment of mad frenzied ambition, I uncover my long-lost Superwoman identity hidden somewhere between the sticky pantry and the dusty computer desk.

She's not very excited to show herself today. So sorry to disappoint you, bloggyland.

Normally she makes her appearance sometime between Dec. 30th and Jan. 2, so excited to dust off her dreams and show the world what she's made of. But it so didn't happen this year. Not yet anyway. This year she had a layer of stomach flu, late sleeping, and uneaten crab wontons keeping her under wraps. It's a shame, really.

Superwoman had so many plans.

She was going to finish her current draft (plus maybe a couple more) of her WIP and submit it for publication. She was going to finish the first draft of another book. She was going to work much harder on her Etsy store and get so many orders she scarcely had time to fill them all. She was going to be a non-yelling mother who kept her house clean and her mind sane. She was going to keep up with her flute playing endeavors and make sure to include her daily exercise and throw in some bubble baths while she was at it. She was also going to single-handedly cure cancer, create world peace, and remember to change the kitty litter before it starts to smell, all while standing on her head.

But she's not coming out this year. I can't possibly achieve any kind of Zen state or Superwoman-contacting conduit while I have the hiccups. So maybe you'll meet her tomorrow.

If you're the kind of person who can stand on your head while hiccuping, more power to you. For today, it's one too many things for even Superwoman to deal with.

I'm not crying

2010-12-13T22:00:00.000-08:00

So, the writing craft books tell me, if you're not crying while you're writing your deeply emotional main-character-confronts-her-inner-demons scene, your readers won't be either.

Well, I might cry while I'm writing, but it's mostly for other reasons. What are they, you ask (I know 'cause I read your bloggy minds)?

Here's a short list: I'm going to pull my hair out if I have to wash one more load of laundry, I haven't had my vitamins today, and a Saturn commercial sneaked up on me while I was ironing.

When I'm on the billionth draft of my novel, can you blame me if there are more waterworks coming from my sweat glands than my tear ducts? I think any kind of water emanating from any part of my body ought to count. Like if I go pee seven times today instead of the usual five, doesn't that make my scene extra touching?

I'm currently working on a scene where my character has to tell her mother some serious stuff and the mother doesn't respond the way she'd hoped. So I try to reach back to my own inner demons. Like there was the time I peed on the floor in first grade. That was pretty traumatic. And there was water emanating all over the place! Yup, water counts. See how sad I make things when I write? Are you crying yet?

Anyway, I think the only way you can tell if the emotions you express are touching someone else is if they read it and tell and/or show you.

Anybody else got any tips or got any water running out from their bodies? (Noses count, too. Colds are very, very sad.)

Books that are taking way too long to come out

2010-12-10T19:22:00.000-08:00

I follow a few authors' blogs, and some of them are getting published soon, and I can't wait to read them. But of course, publishing being a business that takes a while (ie. snails have got nothing on the industry), some of these books seem like they're taking forever to appear.
Here are some upcoming books on my list:

Elana Johnson's Possession
Emily Wing Smith's Back When You Were Easier to Love
Talli Roland's The Hating Game
Brodi Ashton's Everneath
Beth Revis's Across the Universe

I keep entering their contests, hoping that one of these authors will send me an ARC so I don't have to wait for the second Ice Age until I can read one. And so, Beth Revis's contest called to me--we're talking 100 prizes, all from one author! Only once have I ever gotten an ARC in the mail. Advance Reader Copies make me feel like a kid opening her presents a week before Christmas and then wrapping them back up again so no one else gets to see. Wahoo! Sneaky me! Just you wait, world, because I know what's about to be unleashed upon you.
Here's hoping.

How to live life on the fly

2010-11-21T18:54:00.000-08:00

Since I was asked to play the flute in church, and I am SICK of the same ol' arrangements I've played about twenty million times each, I asked my exquisitely talented friend Barbie to put together an musical arrangement for me. Seriously, go see her site (and take a listen--she's got audio samples) because I don't gush for just anyone. I knew she could whip something up faster than I whip up a Jello dessert and it would taste a whole lot better, too. So, about 3.7 seconds later, she was done arranging the hymn and it sounded beautiful. I know! Talk about a slow day!
photo credit
Here's where it gets interesting for me. Barbie's blind, and so sending me a written version of the song is a bit of a challenge for her. Talented though she might be, she's not so good at sending out ESP versions of her musical scores and I'm not so good at receiving psychic messages. So she cooked up a recording (so I haven't eaten lunch and I'm into food metaphors today) and sent me an mp3 file which I was able to download thanks to the advanced technology I have now mastered. It's called email. Yup, that's right, I even know how to open and read messages. Not only that, I can click on the download button.

So I listened to the piece and learned it by ear. You can listen to it (see sidebar, I Believe in Christ) and learn it by ear if you want to, also (please note this is an mp3 file and that no real people were harmed by playing an actual musical instrument in this version). This is neither me nor her playing but it is Barbie's composition. Amazing, right? I'll be proud to say I knew her before she was famous. But if you're going to learn it like I did, please take longer than two weeks to figure it out or I will hate you forever.

Learning music by ear is not so easy for me. But here's another scary thing. When I went to her house to practice, Barbie said, "Do you need a music stand?" and then she started laughing when she remembered I don't have the sheet music. That's right, I can't hike the stand up high enough to hide my face when I'm playing. I thought about coming to church half-naked because I figured standing up in front of everyone with no stand would be way more exposed. With no sheet music, I have no crutch. It's just me, my flute, a talented accompanist, and my brain. That's all I've got to rely on. It's scary. Who knows what could happen? But it's also kind of freeing for the same reason. Who knows what could happen?

The same principle is true with sewing. I've been experimenting for the last few weeks with sewing without a pattern. That's been fun, too. When I give myself the freedom to figure things out on my own, I make mistakes, but some accidents have turned out beautifully. Like when I made a skirt too short and had to add a ruffle. It turned out all purty on me. Or when I made the neck too wide on a dress and I had to add some darts.

In my novel, I'm doing something similar with my massive rewrite. I know the basic story, but I'm not holding myself to all the events that occurred in previous versions. I'm writing with the same characters, but I'm not making them say or do the same things this time around. I want to discover what they'll do when I know them so well and I put them in different situations.

So I'm trying to learn to not be terrified of doing things without a plan, and hoping the creative part of my brain won't disappoint me when it doesn't have the usual back-up methods to save me from myself.

Excuses for not blogging

2010-11-18T20:52:00.000-08:00

1. Harry Potter. Nuff said.
2. Thoughts of turkey on the horizon. Can the tryptophan from the turkey make you sleepy before you eat it?
3. Only being able to open my dresser drawers 5.8 inches since the bed was moved next to the dresser (so the carpet layers could do their thing). Once I've struggled to get my clothes out of their drawers, my whole routine is out of whack for the day.
4. Cabin fever. It does things to your brain.
5. Carpet cleaning fumes. See above.
6. Stopping at DQ to pick up a cheque for my orchestra. I've been trying not to think of peanut buster parfaits ever since.
7. Those kids. Think I'm supposed to feed them or something. Next thing you know, I'll have to buy them clothes, too.
8. Did you know you Toys R Us is having a Lego sale right now?
9. Christmas on the horizon, too. Can the expense of gift-buying make you broke before you buy anything?

Excuses for not writing
10. Making up excuses for not blogging

Why I want to be a child

2010-10-23T20:17:00.000-07:00

Kids have it so easy. They do something wrong, they just get over it. They don't waste time stewing about whether or not it was their fault or how if they could have just done something differently, things might have turned out better. Say they hit their siblings. No problem. They mutter an insincere apology and 0.3 seconds later, it's forgotten. Say they don't wear their underwear to school. Why get worked up about it? Say they forget to turn off the water in the bathroom and cause a major flood leading to all kinds of damage to multiple rooms in the house (this is purely hypothetical, of course).

See the four hypothetical industrial-size fans hanging out, not in the theoretical bathroom upstairs, but directly underneath it? I couldn't get them all in the camera's view. There are actually five, if you don't count the dehumidifier. That makes six. That's only downstairs. There are some more monster-truck sized fans in the bathroom.
So repairing this damage is going to take a while. We won't know for sure what repairs are needed until Monday. But does mere money and inconvenience bother a child? Does it cause him remorse?
Not in the slightest! That's why I want his gig. Maybe I'll let my children run around naked all day (whoops, too late for that). Dinner? Who needs it? Being nice to my kids--why bother? I'm not going to let this guilt stuff interfere with my life anymore.
Because the next thing on my list might be killing children who leave faucets running.

If you play with fire...

2010-10-11T21:06:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed my blog posting bandwagon has been moving slowly lately. That's OK. I'm spreading the slacker love around by not doing much writing, either.

I have kids. They stress me out. They take up most of my time and invade my brainspace while they're at it. Until we get our kiddo issues figured out, the slacker trend may continue. But I will still send my readers lots of love telepathically, if not so much fiberoptically.

I've been reading Donald Maass' The Fire in Fiction lately (thanks to my pal Sydney who's been ~~shoving it down our writer group members' throats~~ recommending it). Maass has lots of good ideas. Did I mention lots? This is book boot camp, baby. If you read this book and apply his ideas to your manuscript, it won't look the same when you're done. His chapters aren't the typical boring ones you might expect, such as Plot: To Outline or not?

No, he's more imaginative than that. Here are some chapter titles: Making the Impossible Real. Tension All the Time. Good concepts to make your manuscript more intriguing, yes? The end of each chapter contains a step-by-step guide to implementing ideas. My personal favorite was how to write scenes that can't be cut. The key is making your character have both an outer and inner turning point. When these happen in your scene, your character is changed somehow. That gives your reader compelling reasons to keep reading.

Anyway, enough of the infomercial. If you have a manuscript that needs work, pick up some Fire. But you may need to make some scary changes if you do. That's what happens when you get burned.

Wherein Kaylie gets some bloggy love

2010-10-02T22:05:00.000-07:00

Hello, followers and other random readers. I am excited to be featured on Nikki's Cloth Diaper Review blog this week. If you visit, you can read about the flannel bib I sent her and you can enter her giveaway contest for one of my crib sheets, too. Thanks, Nikki!

Taking John Lennon's advice

2010-09-30T21:41:00.000-07:00

Time to let some things be. If you have never met me in person, you might not be familiar with my type-A style. You remember Alex P. Keaton on Family Ties? He had nothing on me. If I'm not doing at least thirty things at once, it's probably because I'm asleep. Though I have been known to dream about work, trips to England, and fending off terrorists, sleeping really cramps my multitasking style.
I've got a writing conference coming up in November. Between now and then, I have some other projects I'm working on. I sew, play music, fundraise, blog, raise three children, wash clothes, lead a choir, wash dishes, vacuum out vans, help whiny children with homework, operate a preschool shuttle (well, for our family anyway), write magazine articles, read, and then there's the important stuff: I check Facebook regularly. So even though I'm currently writing chapter seven of the third draft of my WIP, November will look a lot closer when I wake up tomorrow on the October side of the bed. I'm not sure yet how long this version of my novel will be, but it may take thirty chapters or more. 3-4 chapters a week? Hmm, don't know if I'll get there.
Back when I attended goal-making school, I think I missed one of the fundamental goal-making lessons: you know, keep your goals time-focused, consistent, and oh yeah, what was that other one again? Attainable.
Maybe I don't have to freak out. The novel may actually get done, someday, somehow. That day and that how may not be in mid-November and it may not be with bags under my eyes and a chocolate IV hooked to my computer monitor. You NaNoWriMo types might disagree, but I think writing a novel in a month is ridiculous. At least for me.
I'll take a deep breath, and let myself take longer to finish. After all, no editor is shoving deadlines down my throat. It's better to be sane than to have an impressive list of rushed accomplishments. And those are my words of wisdom for today.

A character by any other name

2010-09-23T15:43:00.000-07:00

Hmm, I guess I haven't blogged in a while. I've been a little busy doing ever-so-productive things. For example, checking Facebook. You never know how things might change in five minutes. That's why you have to check it at least five times a day.
I've been raising money for my orchestra, the Celebration Chamber Orchestra. So far I've mooched a grand total of 50 bucks from local businesses.
I also constructed a new blog for my flute choir. I played around with the pictures and colors for a while before I finally decided to stick with the original colors in bold. Sometimes simple is best, ya know?
I've been sewing, too, because I went to Jo-Ann's ever-so-innocently for some patterns and came out with some must-have flannel. I decided I'd make a car seat canopy, so then I had to buy some cute (read evil) pink trim. It was pretty on the outside, satanic on the inside. The sewing area was so narrow either the needle would slip off the trim, the trim would slip off the blanket, or both. But the end result is pretty cute, don't you think?

Now I just have to convince the rest of the Etsy world.
I've been writing, too. I recently finished chapter 6 of my WIP rewrite. I'd like to finish it in time for my Nov. writing conference, but I have my doubts.
My current dilemma is changing one of my character's names. I hate that. Whenever I change a name, my mental picture of that character does, too. For instance, I once changed a name from Libby to Amy. The girl lost about thirty pounds, grew, got blonde hair, and got some more eyebrows along with her attitude.
I have to change a character's name because too many characters start with the same letter. Her name's Charlotte, and in my mind she's got dark brown hair and eyes, red cheeks, and a big chest. I tried to change her name to Shauna and then she got all blonde and shy on me. I don't think so. I need to find another name. Sigh...

Like a llama, or an emu

2010-09-11T20:49:00.000-07:00

I wouldn't really buy me an exotic pet, just pay off the car loan and take a vacation or two.
I don't know how anybody has the stamina to keep writing. They're either totally insane or they have voices in their heads (NOT the same thing). When you write a novel, you put in thousands of hours, and the chances of getting any kind of financial compensation for your work are pretty slim. I don't know anybody besides SAHMs who willingly takes on that kind of work for about a 0.25% chance of getting paid.

(photo source)
Besides the annoyance of being a volunteer slave, many of us could actually use the money. You know, to pay bills and other luxuries. We may have fellow writers and family members cheering us on, but when it comes right down to it, we have to put our own butts in the chair without any encouragement from bosses or, you know, a paycheck.
Last week I decided I wanted to actually report some income to the IRS this year, so I sent off two magazine queries, hoping to land an assignment. I entered a contest, too, because luckily for me, I found a contest that matches a story I'd already written.
I don't know if my efforts will pay off or not, but if it does, chances are it will happen a lot sooner than it would waiting for a novel contract. Also it will happen much sooner than getting a patent for the self-cleaning kids I'm going to invent.
Do you do anything crazy to earn pocket change?

I need me a writing time travel machine

2010-09-03T15:15:00.000-07:00

Here's what I've been up to lately: reading writing books. Some of them are better than others, but they all make me think, whether that's new technique, new markets, or new ideas.
I've been pondering one of my WIPs, trying to figure out a timeline. The story needs to take place over about three years, but I don't want to do it in flashbacks, since the stuff that happens three years in the past has a storyline, too. I'm thinking about introducing each scene with either the MC's age or maybe a date or some other indication of time passing. My question is: It's unusual for the action in a YA novel to take place over any longer time span than a year. Can you think of any YA books that stretch the timeline out or that include lots of action in the past so I can read them and learn?

Just to make you smile

2010-08-05T17:03:00.000-07:00

Poetry time

2010-08-03T11:54:00.000-07:00

This post comes from a rhyming query contest over at Grab a Pen. The contest was in March, but I recently remembered my scintillating effort. Though I didn't win :( , and only large amounts of frozen yogurt topped with piles of delicious berries will soothe my agonizing heart (that's Yogurt Stop. They do issue gift cards), it's worth checking out some of other (less) funny queries. Here's my ever-so-hilarious entry:

There's a tough-guy teen fighter named Rocky
Who'd rather punch-punch than talk-talky.
Foster sis likes her Luckys
And he thinks that suckys
'Cause his parents buy him diddly-squocky.

Rocky wants to get cozy with Charlotte
Whose cheeks are a sweet shade of scarlet.
He makes her a bet,
Thinking he'll get her yet,
But, oops! she's a brain, not a harlot.

Then there's his best man-buddy Bron,
Who likes to make cabins at dawn.
Rock tries to help build
Then the cabin gets killed
Hmm, who's got his wrecking ball on?

His parents sleep in separate beds
Which screws with the almost-sibs' heads.
The 'rents want to adopt Becki
But she's sick of the home wrecki
It gets worse! Dad stops taking his meds.

So I'm hoping that you like my plot.
My mother sure likes it a lot.
C'mon, what the hell?
You know it will sell.
Reject me and you'll die and rot.

Coming to you, live and in stereotype

2010-07-31T20:40:00.000-07:00

If you read as much as I do, you know who the stereotypes are when you meet them. You can identify them right away and you can usually figure out what they're going to do right from the beginning. "Look, here he is, the dumb jock. I bet he'll make stupid jokes for comic relief all through the novel until the very end when he realizes there's more to life than sports."
Here are some other stereotypes that annoy me.

1. The self-righteous religious conservative. photo sou r ce

You know the one. The gay-hating, intolerant, anti-evolution, and possibly racist crusader, this character doesn't see any other way except the right way, which just happens to be this character's way, too. The SRRC will fight to protect the status quo, because God's on their side, until (surprise, surprise!) their son/friend/cousin turns out to be a member of the very same group they've been hating on. Oops. Well, maybe that person isn't so bad. Maybe our Glenn Beck groupie has to rethink his or her chauvinist/anti-Muslim/gun rights stance after all.
2. The popular cheerleader.photo source

Yeah, I know, pick on the most obvious stereotype on the planet, right? Well, it's fun, so I'm going to. I think most writers these days have enough sense not to create this character, but maybe there are still a few bad cheerleader books out there.
She has to be blonde. Huge boobs. And for some reason, waving pompoms makes all the guys drool and all the girls stalk her at the mall to find out where she shops. Usually, she's such a ditz the author doesn't have to bother with much character development. She exists (1) purely to torment the main character and her friends or (2) to steal the MC's crush until the silly boy hits his head on her huge boobs and realizes (oops) brains are better than boobs and how could he not have noticed The Perfect Girl Right in Front of Him?
3. The nerd. (photo source)

He's a loner. He sits by himself at lunch, and when he goes home, his best friend is the computer. He doesn't have enough social skills to remember to remove the paper towel bits from his face after shaving (which he does at least once a month), but by golly, he has a heart of gold. Thank goodness for his understanding teacher who reaches out to him and saves him from his self-destructive tendencies, because otherwise, he might never have the sense to believe in himself or make new friends. But by the end of the novel, he applies his teacher's wisdom to his life and even gets a girlfriend. Cue cheering crowds of popular cheerleaders.

I can think of a few more, but I'm stopping for now. What stereotypes are your pet peeves?

I'm posting again!

2010-07-16T13:13:00.000-07:00

Yeah, twice in one week--it must be a miracle.
Over to your right (or at my blog, www.kaylieblog.blogspot.com, if you're reading this on Facebook), you can listen to a recording of some of Flautissimo's spring 2010 concert. I may add more music later, but I promised some music, so I'm delivering (and wondering why I can't remember my old username and password on podbean). Also, I'm way excited about our upcoming August concert. If I'm really organized, I'll post details on Facebook later.
UPDATE: I've also added Grieg's Peer Gynt suite to the 2010 playlist. Just scroll down if you want to listen to that, too.

Long time no blog

2010-07-14T16:41:00.000-07:00

I promise I'm not dead. Though that would be an interesting premise for a novel, wouldn't it? A dead blogger girl?

I've been even crazy busier than ever since coming back from WIFYR. I've been sick (just allergies, I think), dealt with broken bones, sick babies, 4th of July weekend (which was a three-day party this year since it was on Sunday), multiple flute performances (recordings to come soon, I think), etc. Also I've been sewing. I made lots of cute stuff for my house (pictures someday) and for my Etsy store.

Here's what I've been doing with my WIP: the index card tactic.

My original first chapter dropped nothing but a big icy cold bucket o' sad on the reader, so I literally shook things up. I notated each of my scenes (already written and still in my head) on its own index card. Then I threw them on the floor and picked them back up again--not totally randomly, though that would have been fun. Some events still have to happen in a certain sequence to make logical sense.

It's been lots of fun--and educational. Nothing like good old fashioned paper to help a writer visualize.

It was a great way for me to realize which characters have too many scenes and which have too few, and which introductory scenes are necessary and which are not. Plus there's something very reassuring about seeing an outline in front of my face. When I've written novels pants-style, there's always a feeling of dread when I don't know what's coming next--it hurts my brain to know I'll have to make it up. But when it's all (or mostly) in front of me, I know it's already there, just in shorthand. Plus I'll get to use some of what I've already written. Just in a different order.

I've heard about the index-card method before, and I always thought it was too structured for me. But now I don't think it is. I still get to play with my story. And when I write it out on index cards, I can add a few spades and hearts to make my very own game of solitaire.

The next Etsy victim

2010-06-25T21:23:00.000-07:00

Yes, that would be me. I got sucked into the sell-stuff-online scheme. I just figured it was a way to pay for my sewing habit, so I can keep buying fabric without bankrupting us. So here I am, opening my Etsy store.
Which is more likely--selling a manuscript, or selling a handmade crib sheet on Etsy? I'll let you know once I figure out what I'm doing.

Gift card, anyone?

2010-06-24T13:42:00.000-07:00

My friend Cam has a contest going on her blog. If you write, or even if you're one of those baby name book-obsessed people, this contest is for you! Naming characters is even more fun than naming your child, don't ya think? You don't have to agree with your husband, plus you don't have to worry so much about matching first names with last names because you can make up the last name, too.

I know everything, don't I?

2010-06-24T09:23:00.000-07:00

I was humbled at WIFYR, to say the least, not only by what other people have done and how well they write, but also by how much there is for me to do. And I'm sure other people remember different things from conference, depending on what their challenges are, but here's what I need to work on: STRUCTURE.

I think the structure of some books can be easier than for others, but in every case, writing a novel is different than other writing, not just because it's fiction, but because your readers expect a certain order. There are certain rules. Yes, rules can be broken (and that's how different structures were created), but you have to know what you're doing if you're going to break those rules, and your novel's content has to match the structure. It has to make some kind of sense, somehow.

In my case, the two novels I'm working on are completely different, and in both cases, the content demands some unconventional structure. In my Rocky book, I had to completely change the structure once I realized who the reader was that my character kept talking to. Plus I wanted to add in some fights, because what kind of Rocky book doesn't have boxing? In my Alzheimer's book (which is, or was, about halfway done its first draft), I have to jump around in time a lot because Alzheimer's is a progressive disease. While many YA novels take place over a summer or even a school year, that's not really an option for me.

So I need to ask myself over and over again, does the structure work here? Or is it so contrived that it draws attention to itself? I got some good ideas from WIFYR, and then I took some of each of them to my critique group, who built on those ideas and gave me even better ones.
It will take a lot of work, but I think my novels will be much better for the changes *tears her hair out*. Really, it will. I can rearrange everything I've written and add half a novel of scenes that happen in between what I've already got.

I'll keep you posted. If I'm still breathing under all that paper.

Meanwhile, back in the real world...

2010-06-21T11:32:00.000-07:00

I'm back from an amazing conference, everyone! Wow. My brain hurts. I made so many new friends, learned a ton about writing and the publishing market, and absorbed all kinds of ideas for my WIPs. So naturally, I'm blogging instead of writing.

I'll be sharing some things I learned here in the next little while, if I can get all my ideas out of my brain. But first, some business.

My friend Elissa was at the conference. I asked her about the middle grade blog I knew she had started, along with some other book peeps.

Guess what, sphere? Her blog, Mixed-Up Files, is HUGE. No, not just got a few followers huge. I mean Random House huge. That's right, the big houses are buzzing about her blog. They got 3,000 hits their first week. They already have 270 comments on their first post. Authors are contacting them begging to be interviewed. Sometimes, big things really do start with a small idea. Elissa, you rock. Congratulations. If you write or just love middle grade fiction, go check it out.

Also, I wanted to mention some amazing books I've read lately.

First, here's one I loved immediately after I read it--The Way He Lived. Emily Wing Smith's writing style is amazing--one that I hope to emulate someday. She doesn't tell the reader everything--you get to think and fill in the blanks. Told from six different points of view, we learn how 16-year-old Joel died and see the effect that he had on other people's lives.

Second, I'd been meaning to read The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams for ages, and I finally decided to buy it when I met the author and had a chance to get her to sign it. 13-year-old Kyra is a member of a polygamist religion. When she has to marry her sixty-year-old uncle, she wonders if she dares leave the only family she's ever known. This book was creepy and sad, but also hopeful and happy at the same time.

WIFYR

2010-06-14T21:37:00.000-07:00

I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, though I have considered dropping off the face of Neptune, just to shake things up. I'm at a big ol' conference this week. I don't have much time for blogging and my brain is about to explode from writing overload, and seriously, who wants to clean up that kind of mess? Exploding brain stains set very quickly on carpets. So I will send happy wordy-learning posts out into the sphere soon, but not today.

Butt-in-chair-itis

2010-06-10T08:09:00.000-07:00

People who write full-time, how do you do it? I start to get a serious case of the heebie-jeebie numb bum about an hour after I sit down at the computer.
Most of my hobbies require me to sit down in a chair for an extended length of time. Usually I don't realize how crazy it makes me to sit for so long until it's too late, and the only cure is to scream, pull my hair out by the roots, howl at the moon, and run around the house 16.8 times until the heebies leave my system.
I don't know what causes the crazies: staring at a computer, sitting in a chair, bad posture, inactivity, etc. But once the crazies hit, there's no cure. I can't write anymore until I get some blood flowing and some oxygen in my brain.
Does sitting for a long time give anyone else the heebies? Or am I the only crazy one?

Cleaning fairy aka drill sergeant

2010-05-31T09:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, we played Mommy's favorite cleaning game.

It's my favorite because it's the only one that works with my competitive, stubborn boy. We set the timer for a certain amount of time (usually six minutes since L. is six), and we have a contest to see how many things we can put away in those few minutes. This is how I get him to clean his room.

I was pretty sick of the mess around here, and so I made the whole family play my favorite game, cleaning the whole house. I upped the ante by giving the winner a quarter. By the time six minutes were over, the house was almost clean. L. decided he wanted to keep cleaning if I'd pay him an extra quarter. What can I say? It's worth it. Then he wanted to vacuum. Who am I to say no?

Anyway, the point is, the house looked so much prettier when we were done. It's amazing what having a clean house can do for my state of mind. I don't get nearly so frazzled and annoyed. I can think more clearly because even though I know there's still dust everywhere and the pile on top of the file cabinet is almost as high as the file cabinet itself, at least it feels less cluttered. It's well-managed chaos.

And when my mind is less cluttered, I feel like I can write a little easier. The house and its nagging messes aren't lurking at the back of my mind, distracting me. Write a chapter? Oh, yeah, no problem for this Domestic Diva. I can do anything.

Of course I'd rather write than clean. But sometimes I can't write much until I clean first.

I like...everything

2010-05-20T12:27:00.000-07:00

I'm way too lazy to give you a source for this one, but I know JK Rowling once said she didn't have any hobbies, other than reading and writing.

So I'm kinda jealous.

As nice as it is to have something else to focus on when you just can't write anymore, my problem is that I like lots of things. And there is never enough time to do it all. I've decided I'm going to focus on writing novels for the next few years at least, but that means I have to give up some other things I love. If you're a regular follower, you know I'm a music nerd. And that I sew, at least since I bought the shiny new machine. In fact, I just bought some fabric today to make these cute little onesie dresses I found on a blog.

Yes, I'm whining. I'm really lucky to be able to stay home to try to fit all these hobbies into my life. But I'm looking forward to the year 2014 when Baby M will be in school, and maybe I'll have more time for: learning web design, swimming, scrapbooking, more sewing, volunteering, actually doing something about the social issues that matter to me, freelance writing (for magazines and businesses)...

What about you? Are you a multi-hobby monster like me or is one hobby enough to keep you busy?

How writing is, and is not, like music

2010-05-11T11:40:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know, I am a flute nerd (So are my friends Megan and Nicole.). I studied it in school, and I currently play in one flute choir, one chamber orchestra, and one other orchestra. We just had a really fun concert last Saturday because there was chocolate after we finished playing. Also, we were very lucky to have the composer of one of our pieces (Crawford Gates) conduct for us. I'll be sure to post some music once I get a recording.

Here are some ways that a flute concert and a novel are the same.
1. Lots of different hats.
We trade instruments a lot so that no one gets deaf from playing piccolo or loses an arm from holding up the bass flute. In writing, you have many different characters and voices who sound very different from one another.
2. Skills build upon each other.
Just like you learn to read and write different sounds, words, and then sentences, you learn to play sounds, notes, and phrases, and these skills eventually help you to create something you can share with other people.
3. Practice makes better.
Not perfect, but if you keep working at it, you'll learn and get better.
4. The market.
Once in college, my teacher found out another student had been crying because she didn't get into the orchestra she wanted. "She has no idea," my teacher said. "The conductor just wanted a piccolo player with a certain style (I think it might have been a softer sound, but I don't remember for sure). So I chose someone else. It didn't have anything to do with her playing ability." Sometimes, publishers have to buy what will sell. If you get rejected, it doesn't always mean you can't write.

Here's how they're different.
1. No revisions during concerts allowed.
There were a few times during the concert that I thought, "Please, can we stop and revise that last measure 'cause it totally sucked?". I don't think that would have gone over too well.
2. The role of the group.
You can write with your friends, but writing is still a mostly solitary endeavor. You can't blend words when reading them aloud the same way you blend musical sounds, 'cause if you did, nobody could hear you. Even soloists usually have someone to accompany them. But writing is all about butt in chair. Musicians still spend hours in a practice room, but for them, it's all about whether or not they can make it in the moment, in front of someone else. They don't have a bulk of paper they can print out to say, "Hey! Look what I did!"
3. The role of the conductor.
You'd better listen. What you want to do with your music doesn't matter as much as the sound of the group. But when you write, it's your novel, not Tchaikovsky's, and you have a lot more say in the final product.

Careful or I'll unleash my evil influence on you

2010-05-07T21:23:00.000-07:00

Let's take this one as a given: No matter their religion, or non-religion, most people have a moral code they live by. Certain things are right, and certain things are wrong. There may be some exceptions, such as sociopaths, serial killers, my inherently evil sink full of dishes, and toddlers throwing tantrums, but for the most part, people believe there are good ways and bad ways behave. These morals vary across individuals, cultures, generations, etc.

Next question is, what influence does a writer have on a reader's beliefs and moral values? (I'm not going to even get into TV and movies here--they're a whole different animal). Can you change what someone else thinks or feels through your books? Has a book ever changed you? If so, what is your obligation as a writer? Even if your character is a hermit, your book still needs conflict. How are you going to treat this conflict? Here's another question: If your main character doesn't come from the same background as you, is he/she going to see moral dilemmas the same way?

As a reader, preachy books annoy me. I don't want the character telling me what's right.

As a writer, I've learned that you can't please everyone. Let's take the Twilight books, for example. It's been not so high on everyone's moral horse for different reasons. Some people hate them because they think vampires and other paranormal creatures are too much like witchcraft. Some don't like the sex. Others don't like Bella's abandoning her plans when she gets married and pregnant at a young age.

Some complaints about "questionable" books might sound like this:
"The author makes it okay that (insert evil action here)"
"The author makes the evil characters likeable/normal/sympathetic"
"The depiction of (evil action) is inappropriate for young readers"
"(Evil action) is glamorized"
"(Character who committed evil action) never faces the consequences for his/her actions"
"I can't believe someone who shares my culture/religion/politics/shoe size would write this way"

What it comes down to, either spoken or not, is the end of the sentence, which goes something like this "...so readers/young people learn that..." and you can fill in the appropriate (or not) blank as you please.

Is that what readers do? Do they automatically assume that whatever printed matter they read is true, valid, and should make up their moral code? How malleable are the minds of the people who pick up books, and should we care? If I write about how fun it is to vandalize buildings, am I partially responsible when some teenager reads my book and decides graffiti is her true life calling? If I put something less than ideal in my book, am I being realistic or immoral?

And as a reader, if I disagree with the morals in a novel, should I put it down, or do I have a (moral--ha ha!) obligation to keep an open mind and see the book through to the end?

I phrase these as questions because I don't have the answers. But I'd be interested to hear your opinions.

BTW, gentle sphere, sorry about the evil font issues on this post. Blogger is out to get me.

I'm a rule breaker

2010-05-05T11:49:00.000-07:00

I forgot how to be a writer, so I went to wikihow to see if they've got it figured out.
Now I know why I haven't hit the big time yet! I haven't been following their rules.
1. Consider the options. That's right, not everyone can write the next Harry Potter. What's that you say? ~~Scamming on Craig's list~~ Copywriting is in demand all over the internet? Silly me. I've been way too focused on achieving the impossible dream.
2. Plan using logic and desire. Oh, right, the back-up plan. Yup, I guess I'll have to abandon my five-year starvation plan.
3. Think about what you want to write, instead of what you want to get from writing. Agent queries? Forget 'em. Elevator pitch? Who needs it? Deadlines? Toss 'em in the recycling bin. It's all about you and what you want, baby.
4. Be prepared to work odd hours -- you'll need to write whenever ideas strike, even if it's the middle of the night.You know, it's a good thing I've got three kids to wake me up at 3 am. Otherwise, I might miss out on the millions of great ideas that cross my brain when I'm too tired to remember my own name.
5. Find what works for you and stick with it.You know that million dollar advance I've been waiting for in the mail? Yeah, that works for me. Good plan. I'll be sure to stick with that from here on out.
6. Know that writer’s block is a real thing. Thanks for clearing that one up. All this time, I thought it was a Fig Newton of my imagination. Mmm, Fig Newtons. I need a snack.
7. Take a break to refresh your mind. Man, I was totally set to spend eight hours in front of the computer today until this rule came along. I wasn't going to do any laundry, weeding, dishes, or mopping. No sir. If my babies play in the street, so be it. No time away from the screen for me.
No wonder my agent hasn't called. He wants me to take a break.
8. Use dreams to assist with ideas. After all, wiki reminds us, the entire Twilight series was based on a dream. Huh. Which dream should I use? The one where I oversleep and don't get any laundry done, or the one where the axe murderers invade my house again?

technical difficulties

2010-04-29T21:01:00.000-07:00

I don't know why this is happening to me, but my computer had a few too many bytes of something nasty. It thinks it's Friday.

This temporary (I hope) cyber-Alzheimer's has not hit hubby's laptop. Ironically, his browser is an older version of the one on the family computer. You'd think it would be the other way around.

Anyway, maybe my computer has seen too many episodes of Dr. Who. Wouldn't that be cool if I could just stop time and make it whatever day I wanted, like my computer has? Hello, computer here. I decided it's Friday because it's snowing today and I just couldn't take it anymore. See ya about a week ago.

Of course, I could travel to a certain day and get stuck there forever, like my computer seems to have done. Eternal Groundhog Day. It would get a little boring, but hey, I wouldn't have to worry about getting older. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I could pick the day. Like one where the kids are gone at their grandparents' house, all day. Or one where I'm stuck at a tropical beach. Oh, wait. You can only go to real, possible destinations when you time travel.

My computer currently thinks it's about Friday at noon, so if you're wondering why I'm not jumping for joy because you announced you're having a baby, getting a new job, or getting out of bed, now you know.

I'm grumpy about it. Especially since there doesn't seem to be an easy fix for this problem. Blogger's techies are in short supply, as are Facebook's, and this seems to be an internet-only problem.

What about you? How do technical difficulties disrupt your routine?

Update: I installed a new browser. Poof! Time travel problem gone. Too bad. I was all set to check out my name on the New York Times bestseller list three years in the future.

How sewing is like writing

2010-04-20T15:01:00.000-07:00

If you've been following, you know that we recently bought a sewing machine. This means that I get to neglect any novel or magazine writing in favor of giving myself neck cramps and eye strain.
It's OK to not write for a while, right? While my MS is in my lovely CG's capable hands? Besides, I'm using this hiatus as a writing exercise. Here are some writing and sewing similarities:

1. Patterns. Yup, you can choose whatever fabric you like, you can add whatever frills and changes you want, but you still gotta have something to start from. And it's funny how your readers expect certain conventions, too. You know, like plot and stuff.

.

2. Revisions. We will not discuss how many times I had to redo the zipper on this cute little silk number I just finished. Let's just say it starts with "a" and ends with "lot". Sound familiar, writers?

3. Fame and fortune. When you're finished sewing, everyone will be amazed by your talent and stand in line for your autograph. Right? Right????

She didn't get it from me

2010-04-19T10:01:00.000-07:00

Here's my ever-so-athletic climber on the slide:

Ickle firsties revisited

2010-04-19T09:53:00.000-07:00

If you (like Terresa, Maria, Tara, and Erin) commented on my liar blog, you might want to know the answer to my truth and lies. The correct answer was #2--I had a big ol' scar tissue lump on my earlobe where it was pierced. If you didn't submit a guess on that post, I might find it in my heart to forgive you if you comment on another post somewhere.

It's a family disease

2010-04-13T10:34:00.000-07:00

Last night, L. decided he wanted to write a story. He got on the computer and started typing(He's six and a half, for you newbies). It cracked me up to hear him talk about it. Here is a sampling of some things he said:

"Mom, I want thousands and thousands of people to read my book."
"When I'm done writing it, can I get it made into a book like this (holds up a bound book)?"
"I can't think of what to write next!"
"Can you get your writing friends to look at it for me and tell me what I need to fix?"
"Just let me finish this part and I'll come to bed."
"Wow! I have 133 words already, Mom!"
"I'm not going to write that idea. That was a really bad idea."

Ambition, goals, writer's block, revision, motivation, word count obsession, and self-criticism. What more does a writer need?

New baby brother

2010-04-08T14:01:00.000-07:00

We are so excited to announce the arrival of our new Brother. He arrived today at about 2:20 pm, weighing in at about 19 lbs.
The whole family is thrilled, of course. We expect to spend many fun hours together.

Can't resist

2010-04-05T13:08:00.000-07:00

I've been hearing about this blogfest from Kelly's Compositions for a while, and what can I say? I'm a joiner. I decided to censor a word for the squeamish who aren't expecting to run across rude words in my blog. Sorry, delicate-eared sphere. That's how the boy talks. Here's my first page:

Dear Mr. Stallone,
Do you mind if I call you Sly? I know everybody else does, but I wouldn’t want to dis you or nothing. I mean, I know how to pull a punch and all, but if you got pissed at me, we both know I’m the one who’d end up with the rearranged face.
Don’t worry, Sly. This won’t be another fan letter. I thought about writing one of those. I could, you know. I’ve got the first two Rocky movies memorized, and I named myself after you. No ****. Well, my birth certificate says Robert Livingston Sullivan, but everybody calls me Rocky, even my parents. But don’t freak out or nothing. I’m not gonna turn into one of your crazy stalker fans. First of all, I can’t afford to hop on a jet to track you down. Also, I’m fifteen, so I guess my parents would send the cops after me once they noticed I was missing.
I just wanted to tell you about my life. You’re probably thinking, why the hell should I care about a fifteen-year-old lowlife Stallone-wannabe from some rathole (mine’s called Kepler) in eastern Ontario? That’s in Canada, if you didn’t know. You haven’t heard of it? No one has. I don’t know why they even bothered to name it.
I dunno. You can throw this letter or memoir or whatever the hell this turns into in the garbage if you want. No skin off my not-yet-broken nose (ya like that Rocky reference?).

How I know my house was designed by a man

2010-04-01T09:33:00.000-07:00

I think women are way underrepresented in the house design business. Actually, I really don't know the numbers, and like a true writer, I'm way too lazy to do the research msyelf. But I know there aren't many female architects. Call it woman's intuition, or call it common sense. Here I present my case.

1. See this lovely laundry room? That would be the one that shares space with a bathroom. In the basement. When the bedrooms are upstairs. Unenlightened men do not appreciate how much fun it is to carry peed-on crib sheets down two flights of stairs in a big, huge laundry basket along with cute, heavy sheet-peeing baby who cannot be left unsupervised while Mama loads the washing machine. So then baby gets a ride in the laundry basket full of peed-on sheets so that even the clothes she is wearing become drenched in eau-de-baby-pee. Woman's idea? I don't think so.

2. See this lovely window? That would be the one right by the shower. You'd think even a male architect would be clever enough (no offense, Jason and Sara) to realize that showers are wet, and that when you place a window in the shower, water drips out the window, down the house, and onto the patio below. That it accumulates as mold in the frame. But I guess I can understand that a man wouldn't understand that a woman showering next to the window wouldn't want to show her boobs to the world. 'Cause he doesn't care if the world sees his manly chest. Not like the world hasn't seen my boobs when baby rips off my shirt 'cause she needs her mama juice right NOW, but a shower is supposed to be private, you know, a respite from all that child-crazy unprivate chaos. Of course the window is frosted so you can't see details. But please, we all know what's under those pixels at the Super Bowl wardrobe malfunction. And I don't want my neighbors filling in the blanks with their imaginations. Especially if I decide to take a shower in the evening, when the house is all lit up from the inside. Who knows? Maybe those male architects have short wives, but those of us who are a little taller really don't want to show everything we've got.

3. See this lovely color scheme? Yeah, I know my house was built a few years ago, but I don't think a woman's taste would be bad enough even in the early 90's to put slate grey and dusty rose together in a bathroom.

Ickle firsties

2010-03-30T09:27:00.000-07:00

Two firsts this week: I actually won a blog contest, thanks to Sydney at My Big Nose. I actually get my very own book for free. Wahoo! She has some excellent contests at her site.

Next, I got my first blog award from Alissa at Slightly Cheaper Than Dirt. I've seen this one hanging out on various blogs, but now it's all mine *evil cackle*:

This is the best part: I get to lie. I will tell you six lies about myself and one truth. You get to figure out which of the seven is true. If you want to play, put your guess in the comments.

1. I love to sing, and so one time when I was at a Mandy Patinkin concert a few years ago, I screamed out, "I wanna sing with you!" He stopped what he was doing and asked me to come up on the stage with him and we did a "Kiss to Build a Dream On" duet, only my voice was shaking so bad it sounded terrible.

2. Once I got this huge enormous pink growth on my earlobe. I had to have it surgically removed, local anaesthetic only. They sent the big ol' glob of skin to the lab to test it, just in case it was cancer.

3. I hate mushrooms. If anything I'm gonna eat has even come in contact with any kind of fungus at any time, I refuse to eat it. I even check ingredient labels at the grocery store to make sure.

4. One time when I was in my teenage Nirvana phase, I tattooed Kurt Cobain's name on my shoulder.

5. I've broken my wrist exactly six times. Once at Canada's Wonderland, once when I landed the wrong way at the skating rink, once when my oldest did a running jump move on me, once falling out of a tree, once when I walked into a door, and once in a soccer game.

6. It's kinda weird for a writer, but I hate to read aloud to my kids. It takes way too long to read something out loud. I make my husband do bedtime stories.

7. I don't own a wristwatch. I believe it makes me too anal about watching the time, so I purposely don't wear one.

Rules:

1. Mom, you can't play. That would just be too easy.

Those are all the rules.

I'm passing this award along to the following five people:

1. Erin at Musings of a Writer Chick

2. Summer at ...and this time, concentrate!

3. Maria at Maria Zannini

4. Terresa at The Chocolate Chip Waffle

5. Gwen at Living by my Pen

Why women are better writers than men

2010-03-26T13:40:00.000-07:00

Can we say multitasking? Here's me at a writing group meeting. One on the shoulders, one coloring behind me. You do what you gotta do.

No IRS in the sky

2010-03-24T11:32:00.000-07:00

Mama: (talking about the spirit world, aka heaven) So, after we die, we'll go to a beautiful place where there's no pain, no sickness, nothing to worry about....
L: And we won't have to pay any taxes.
Precocious six-year-old, isn't he?

Great cause...easy donation

2010-03-23T21:45:00.000-07:00

Hey, blogosphere. Check out my friend Sydney's blog. If you'd like to help out a charity that builds libraries all over the world, all you have to donate is a comment. Not on my blog, on hers! You can afford that, right? And she'll donate actual money for their cause.

We interrupt this writing blog once more...

2010-03-20T11:51:00.000-07:00

Yup, more crafts. It all started with an innocent-looking plaid sheet I found extra-cheap. Hmm, thought I. Curtains for our naked basement windows? I called up my SIL and begged to borrow her sewing machine. She obliged.

Then I thought to myself, Wait! I have a baby girl! She needs stuff! Like a crib sheet to match the Raggedy Ann painting in her room. It was easy enough for even me. I followed this tutorial.
Then, what's a crib sheet without a matching valance? Even easier. I found way easy instructions for the valance, too.

Then I just couldn't waste the squares of fabric I cut from the crib sheet, so I cut some more squares from the Raggedy Ann fabric, the contrasting valance ties, and the extra trim from the basement curtains. I sewed them all together and used an old baby blanket for the bottom of the blanket.

You might notice the seams are less than perfect. That's because I believe that pinning fabric is for fools with no sense of adventure.
Then I decided it was time to return the sewing machine. 'Cause I have about five other project ideas, and I'm afraid that if I kept sewing, I'd never stop. Though I did see a nice machine for sale at Costco...
Throughout all this, I've been revising my novel, too. That's the problem with crafting. It's addictive. I think I'll wait to do more projects until after the novel is done.

Type A

2010-03-17T11:32:00.000-07:00

Yes, the pun is intentional.

Some people have a real procrastinating problem. But me, I don't have a life, so I don't put much off. Most of the time, I am one hundred percent anal. When I get it in my head to do something, I don't rest until it's done.

So, since my brain's made itself up to go to WIFYR, I'm determined to have my manuscript ready. But I know that puppy will need at least three edits, probably more. That leaves me just three months. Really, it would be best to finish my first edit yesterday. I'm a little short on time travel skills, though, so I'm editing at the (for me) frenetic pace of a chapter a day, hoping to be finished by April.

You may have noticed that none of these deadlines are imposed. No one says I must have the manuscript letter-perfect by mid-June. No one is standing behind me with a whip saying, "Come on! A chapter! Is that all you can do?" No one is demanding I finish these last 12.5 chapters in the next two weeks.

No one, that is, except me.

'Cause if I don't have it done, that makes me a mega-slacker. And we can't have that! No, no, must finish chapter. No more of these sewing distractions (more about that another time). No more reading. No more making lunch for these children. They can climb, can't they?

I've heard horror stories about writers who flake out or slack off on their editors because they think deadlines cramp their creative style. Somehow, I don't think that will be a problem for me.

Hello, blogosphere?

2010-03-05T20:06:00.000-08:00

I like numbers. I like to measure stuff. So if you think I won't notice if you follow my blog or make comments, you'd be wrong. Yeah, yeah, I know there are lots of folks who read my blog on Facebook or who just lurk without commenting. But actual numbers give bloggers like me warm fuzzies. My friend Elissa feels the same way. She dared her readers to leave a trail. Some bloggers are desperate enough for some love that they create contests and giveaways as incentive. I'm not at that point yet. I'm still dreaming of cracking the double-digit milestone. So I don't dare, make up contests, pass on awards, or stand on my head. I just hint shamelessly.

WIFYR

2010-03-01T11:10:00.000-08:00

I don't know if that's the official acronym, but whether you say "WIFYR" or "Writing & Illustrating for Young Readers", it's still a mouthful. You can't even roll the acronym together in a pretty way. How would you pronounce it? Wiffiyear? WiFiYour? Wiffa yoffer?

Hmm, well, the picture didn't quite turn out. I wasn't trying to steal it, honest! I even linked to the official site 'cause I'm just scrupulous that way. Well, if they have an official widget, I don't know where it is.

Anyway, that's where I'm going this June. It's a five-day, all-day workshop, and all kinds of authors, illustrators, agents, and editors are coming. It's expensive. Well, not really, considering how much a similar workshop would cost elsewhere. You'd probably pay that much for a one-day workshop somewhere like New York. You know I love a bargain, so I'm signing up.

By June, I should have a manuscript ready to show all the lovely native New York publishing types, since I'm editing my Rocky novel instead of starting the next one (thanks to my CG pal Sydney).

So, this brings up three interesting questions.

1. How will I pay? Now, New Yorkers might eye the tuition fees with envy. But they don't have to scrape out the minivan hand grip thingys in the door handle for spare change just so they can buy their kids parfaits at McDonald's, now do they? Hubby and I discussed. I told him I'd try to write enough articles to cover it. After two or three pieces, I'll have more than enough. 'Course, I might have grandchildren or be dead by the time I get my money, but I know it'll be covered sometime. Don'tcha just love the publishing business? So we agreed we can take it out of the tax refund if the moolah doesn't come rolling in by June.

2. What to do with the kiddos? I don't know why I was cursed this way, but for some reason, my children are the supervision-needing variety of kids. Before they were born, I thought for sure I might be able to drop them off in the jungle and let the monkeys watch them for a few years. But those rotten babies seem to enjoy hanging out with adult humans for some reason (though I haven't lost hope for the monkey plan yet--I've already taught them how to swing off furniture one-handed). Hubby checked his work schedule, and he may be able to take all or some of the time off. If he can't be away for the entire week, maybe Grandma can help us out. It's a good thing she doesn't read my blog. I haven't asked her yet. I'm putting off the bad news as long as possible, so that she won't leave the state when she finds out.

3. What if someone actually liked my work? I admit this is a little more of a long shot. Statistically, the odds are about the same as if you bought a lottery ticket and won a shot to get struck by lightning on a game show while simultaneously winning a million dollars and eating a banana. But you know, shoot for the moon before you come crashing back down to earth. So, assuming I hit every jackpot between here and Saturn, what should I do if I actually have a shot at being published? Being published is a lot of work. I know, 'cause my writing friends told me so. You gotta promote and market and revise--and then you still have to write! This is not a burden for those superhuman (and childless) folks who think it's great fun to sit at their keyboard for twenty five and a half hours every day, but we mere mortals are much more limited. When I raised this concern to Hubby, he said, "Don't worry! Even if you get published, it won't happen until our grandchildren are grown anyway!" Just kidding. Actually, I decided that if I'm going to spend enough to buy three McDonald's meals in New York, isn't the end goal publication anyway? So if something miraculous happens, I'll just go with it and see what happens.

At least that's what the monkeys told me to do.

Bah everything

2010-02-17T20:33:00.000-08:00

I hate holidays.
Not that I think Christmas is particularly evil. I can make an exception for all the holiday spirit yada yada stuff.
This is why holidays are evil: The kids are home from school. Well, OK, I only have one child who goes to school. But when he's home, there might as well be twelve kids here.
And the husband's home too. Every wife knows that when the husband is home, it totally messes up her routine. I used to think, "Oh good! Holiday! Mark can look after the kids while I get some stuff done!"
It never works out that way, does it, ladies?
Because he and I stare at each other all day and say, "What do you wanna do?" "I dunno, what do you wanna do?"
Holidays limit our options. Libraries are closed. The post office is closed. Museums are closed. Of course the stores are open, but after taking the kids to the grocery store fifty-seven times the week before, somehow shopping has lost its appeal. And then, of course, it's raining or snowing. So no park, hike, playground, or outdoor play. Our day is filled with dishes, laundry, and breaking up fights between the children.
I don't know why I used to look forward to holidays back in the pre-kid days. I didn't know how good I had it. To me, a day at the office sounds more and more like a vacation every day.

There's a place for us...

2010-02-17T14:58:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking lately about real settings vs. fake settings, as well as all the possibilities in between. Here are some options for some places for your characters to make their home sweet home:
1. Totally and completely fake. Like in sci-fi, where you can set your action on a different planet.
2. Fake place inside a real one. As in Emily Wing Smith's Haven, Utah in The Way He Lived.
3. Fake place based on a real one. For example, Ladybank in Boy in the Burning House is loosely based on Perth, Ontario.
4. Real place, complete with street names and actual buildings.
There are lots of advantages to making stuff up. You don't have to go and do the research. Very convenient if you don't want to travel. You don't even have to worry about staying accurate because knowing how long it takes to publish, chances are details like store names and street names will change by the time your book gets out there. You can, however, make those details up to make your place seem like a real one. This is also convenient if your place is important to the story and you need certain elements of the setting to affect the characters in certain ways. For example, maybe your characters need to meet in a shopping mall that has a British tea shop and a Cambodian restaurant. You can just make up a random place that has everything you need.
For the book I'm editing right now, I'm setting it in a real place. I'm not too worried about travelling there in person (thank you, Google maps). I like that readers can recognize places they live or visit in real life. It gives readers something real to relate to. I don't know if one way of doing things is better than the other. Personally, though, I think it's fun to make my lies seem as close to the truth as possible.

How to make a cherry blossom tote

2010-02-11T22:05:00.000-08:00

We interrupt this writing blog to post about crafts. Why? Well, since we normally never have time for such a frivolous pursuit as crafting, when we do actually get to craft, we must celebrate it.

Step 1. Buy fabric tote.

Step 2. Allow children near fabric tote. Then see if they can create an impalement hazard.

Step 3. Go to hobby store. Get disgusted at their prices and lack of selection for replacement tote.

Step 4. Decide to make it yourself.

Step 5. Buy unfinished wooden totes on clearance from craft store.

Step 6. Look for Chinese or Japanese-looking scrap paper to Mod Podge to tote.

Step 7. Give up in disgust after searching several craft stores and decide to paint it instead.

Step 8. Look for paint to match living room. Remember there is still paint left over from second trimester nesting phase. Leave store empty-handed but happy with bargain-hunting skills.

Step 9. Inhale paint fumes while covering totes in two coats of red.

Step 10. Let dry overnight.

Step 11. Decide to paint cherry blossoms on totes.

Step 12. Google line drawings of cherry blossoms.

Step 13. Decide it can't be that hard to draw branches (no straight lines required) and cherry blossoms (five dots of paint in a circle).

Step 14. Give children their own totes to paint. Give children baths. Wash off table. Repeat.

Step 15. Swear never to do crafts again.

Drum roll, please!

2010-02-11T22:04:00.001-08:00

August 24, 2010. I am so there.

2010-02-04T10:55:00.000-08:00

K (3): Will you open my popsicle for me, please, Mother?

Mama: (sipping Jamba Juice while K whines about it) K, I'll be happy to help you when you use words to tell me what you want.
Baby M (1): Juice.

Mama: You don't have to eat if you don't want to. But I would like you to come sit at the table with us. And if you sit down, Daddy might share his chips and salsa with you.
L (6): It's a good thing I like chips and salsa. I'm not going to fall for that one again.

Shannon Hale fans, now hear this!

2010-02-03T21:21:00.000-08:00

If you are anywhere near as Shannon Hale obsessed as I am, you will know about her latest announcement. If you live in a Shannon Hale-deprived world, you need help.

Just kidding. Mostly.

I am way excited that she has finally announced her super-secret project, after keeping her true fans on edge, promising a big revelation. She delivered. Check out this link if you want to know more. And really, why wouldn't you?

Somebody still has to wash the dishes

2010-02-02T20:48:00.000-08:00

I told Mark all about my feelings of meaninglessness (see previous post). He mentioned listening to NPR's report about the Canadian military's efforts to rebuild an orphanage. I thought he was just talking about NPR because that's what he likes to do. Then he said, "You know, even after they rebuild the orphanage, someone is still going to have to wash the dishes."
I didn't get it at first.
What I think he meant was this: Months from now, when we don't hear about rebuilding efforts in Haiti in the news anymore, there will be lots of kids living there. And they will need to eat. And someone will have to clean up after them.
There won't be any news reports about them. So is their job any less important?
Of course not. Without someone to feed them, the kids would starve, and what use would the rebuilt orphanage be to them then? They still need nutritious food on clean plates. They still need clean clothes.
We don't hear about them. We probably never will.
We don't hear about the millions of people who wash dishes, clean laundry, and wipe up poop in day care centers, nursing homes, and hospitals, every day, for minimum wage. We don't pay them much, and we don't give them any attention. Just the opposite, in fact. We look down on them, because, after all, how much skill could it take to run a dishwasher or a laundry machine? Dead-end jobs, we think to ourselves. Boring, repetitive, mindless, dead-end jobs.
Those so-called dead-end jobs keep people alive. Nobody sees them doing those ugly jobs, though. I mean, the laundry facilities aren't on display in the hospital lobbies or behind the orphanage's front desk.
And nobody sees me doing what I do. It seems simple enough. Millions of mothers, cooks, janitors, etc. do it every day, so it can't be that hard, right? I'm only keeping people alive, after all. I'm never going to be on the news. Can't you just see it? Mother cooks dinner for her family. See it here at ten.
So it's repetitive, boring, and thankless. So my kids aren't orphans in Haiti.
But I'm keeping them alive. 'Cause someone's gotta do the dishes.
Thanks, honey.

Bring in the concrete

2010-02-02T11:47:00.000-08:00

We're going to need lots and lots of concrete for paving purposes here. 'Cause my road to hell is gonna be really smooth--I've got good intentions coming out the wazoo.
I guess Haiti is partly responsible for getting me thinking, but my feelings of boredom today didn't help. I couldn't figure out what to do, so I went shopping. And it really bothered me. It's not like my baby couldn't use some more (very cheap and well-deliberated with plenty of guilt) clothes. It just seems like I could use my time so much better. Yes, I needed to get out of the house. But I'm just tired of the banality of it all. Isn't there more I could do to make a difference in the world, in the lives of my children, than buying cute little stripey girl shirts?
True, opportunities to make a difference are limited when there are three little demanding kids running around. I can't take them everywhere. They won't sit quietly while I bake bread or visit people. They enjoy beating on small animals. They get bored and whine about nothing every day. So yeah, it's a challenge. And yes, I'm making a difference by raising my children. Blah, blah, blah. I've heard it before. I know it's true.
But it's not enough. There has to be something else I can do.
I just don't know where to start.
There has to be something where I can bring my children, where they can see what really matters, where I can get out of the house, where I can contribute. Because I think if I hear my kids whine because it's not fair that they only got three granola bars that day, I'm going to strangle them. I don't think that would serve anyone, would it?

The genre formerly known as sci-fi

2010-01-30T20:41:00.000-08:00

I've been bouncing ideas off Mark for yet another idea I have. This idea is combined from many sources, and he's one of those sources. What do you do when your idea defies traditional genre categories?

It's actually a hybrid of different genres. I've been researching on the internet, trying to see if there's any science behind this concept I'm working on (no, I'm not telling yet because it's still so early that I haven't even nailed down a story for the idea yet, and I don't know if it will work or not). 'Cause, you know, you'd think if it's science fiction, there just might have to be a little science behind it, since that's implied in its name.

But not necessarily, I suppose. If science doesn't define science fiction, then, what does?

As Mark and I were talking about my idea, though, he mentioned that maybe it wasn't sci-fi after all. He thought maybe it was paranormal. You can imagine what I said to that.

NOOOOOOOO! If you didn't know, I'm not a big fan of vampires, werewolves, zombies, and other random weirdness in fiction. I read it sometimes because I like to know what's going on in the YA world, but I have to force myself to keep turning the pages.

It's still too early to tell. It might end up being a Minority-Report type combination of the two, where it's set in the future and some people have extraordinary abilities. Maybe there's a name for a creation like mine, but I'm unaware of it. So what do you say about your genre if it doesn't have a name?

Six going on sixteen

2010-01-22T14:06:00.000-08:00

Mama: That's too bad that your Pokémon cards are falling out. That must be really annoying.
L: I don't need your pity.

getting older

2010-01-18T11:49:00.000-08:00

No, you didn't miss my birthday this year (That was in December, so if you really want to feel guilty about missing my birthday, get it right). I've just been thinking about how great it is to get older. Know why? I've (almost) stopped caring what people think!
It's a much better way to live. I can go to the store with baby snot all over my shirt, and I don't even care if anyone sees. I can sing my favorite song to myself while I'm buying groceries, and if people give me funny looks, I can pretend I'm singing to the baby.
This isn't something I've been consciously working on all these years. It's just magic. Poof-poof! Self-consciousness gone! Hurray!
And, as a writer, guess what? I'll need those extra years to prepare for the inevitable ugly publishing industry comments. I won't have to worry about whether or not they're right, because I won't care. You don't want to publish my stuff because you think my writing lacks substance? Evil book reviewer, you hated my book because you thought it was boring/evil/inappropriate/uglier than the wart on your big toe?
I honestly haven't heard much negative criticism yet since I haven't put much stuff out there to date. But I'm glad for these pre-publication years. It gives me a chance to build up a skin thick enough to bounce all those people with the wrong opinion right into the atmosphere. Bounce, there flies another one. I guess there will be a lot of agents and editors hanging out in the sky, wondering what they're doing bouncing around up there.

Now what?

2010-01-11T22:12:00.000-08:00

I finished the first draft of my novel. I had this super nerd goal of finishing it by New Year's. Actually, it's not that nerdy of a goal because I didn't make the first goal of finishing it for my writing conference in November. Anyway, I pulled it off this time and typed the last page at 10:45 pm on Dec. 31st.
I haven't done any writing since then. My mom came to visit, we went on vacation, and baby had a birthday. But then there's the other reason: I'm not sure what comes next.
I could revise book #1, which actually needs more rewriting than revising. I could revise book #2. I could start book #3, which I'm actually pretty excited about. I could write outlines for books 4,5, and so on. Plus I could query magazines. I prefer to write fiction, but articles validate my self-esteem and my bank account while I'm waiting to hit the big time.
I have a lot of unanswered questions right now. How much can I realistically accomplish with three wall-climbing children (oh yes, the baby walks)? Which projects are most important right now and over the long term? And do I really need sleep?

Sticktoitiveness

2009-12-30T15:16:00.000-08:00

I know it's not really a word, but I think its more correct synonyms are inadequate.
Anyway, it's a quality I don't have as much as I would like. There are writers who get so excited about what they're writing that they can't stop. They write pages and pages, moving their fingers with their muses, until the inspiration runs dry. This sometimes happens to them at 2 am. But no matter! They must write because their characters are talking to them and they must get it all down or be forever haunted.
Not me. I can get my butt in the chair and start writing (after checking my email and Facebook, of course). But I quickly get bored. I write a scene or two, and then, after about three or four pages, I'm done. No voices are compelling me to write more. I might know what comes next, or I might not, but I don't want to write it. Not today. After my daily short spurt, I'm done. I guess you could say I'm a jogger, not a sprinter. Even if, like today, I have a baby-sitter here, and I finally have time to write all I want for a while. Even if I have a noble goal in mind, like finishing the draft before New Year's.
My muse is a short-term muse. It's subject to the whims of my body. If I'm hungry, I eat. If I'm tired, I go to bed. And if I don't want to write any more, I quit. Or blog.
Writing pages and pages of inspired prose in one sitting? Just not my style.

research

2009-12-28T10:15:00.000-08:00

As anybody who's read Little Women or Anne of Green Gables could tell you, you need to write what you know. Problem is, unless you're writing non-fiction, you still have to make some stuff up. Most likely, this will require learning something new. In other words, you can still write what you know, but when you're introducing characters whose lives are not exactly like yours, you have to expand what you know through research.
I'm almost done my second novel. I think there's just one more chapter to write. Of course, I've said that before. I've been learning stuff as I go, but I will probably want to go back and add details when I revise.
Here are some things I've researched before or will research more in the future for my Rocky book: the Rocky movies (do I really have to watch them? Those of you who knew me on my mission will appreciate the irony), boxing, The Merchant of Venice, foster care and adoption law, Dodge Ram trucks, shack building, karate, separation and divorce law including custody issues, Kingston Penitentiary's rules and typical inmates, Ontario high school curriculum, and more I can't think of at the moment.
For my third book, I'm planning to do the research and plot outline before I get started. Here are some things I need to learn more about: Alzheimer's disease, Down syndrome, Utah politics and election campaigns, nursing homes (I used to work in one but it's been a while), soccer, Wordsworth, teenage pregnancy in the late 70's, institutions for the disabled. I'm sure there will be others as I go along.
Also, while I'm thinking about writing, I'm pondering titles. Sometimes they come easily, other times not. I already have one in mind for Book 3: A Forgetting and a Sleep. Book 2 has been much harder--I'm almost done and still don't know what to call it. My working title was Rocky Ground, but I've always hated it and couldn't think of anything better. I did have another idea, though. What about Dear Mr. Stallone? I'd love to hear what you think of my titles.

Silver lining

2009-12-23T20:45:00.001-08:00

Our oldest child is what some child care experts refer to as a "spirited child". I could share all the crazy, difficult things about raising a child like him, but today I'm going to focus on the good things.
1. He inspires creativity. To keep boredom at bay, I need to think of things for him to do. I make chores into games, think of crafts and science experiments, and distract him with funny jokes when I just DON'T FEEL VERY @#*% funny.
2. He makes me feel grateful. I can see how I've been prepared to deal with his unique challenges by the people and situations I've dealt with before.
3. He challenges me to new levels. Patience? Oh, yeah, I thought I had that before he came along. Confidence? Mm, yes, I remember when I thought I knew something about parenting. Understanding? Comes in handy when your six year old is having a tantrum over cookie distribution.
4. He encourages me to reach out to others. Help! I don't know what to do! You don't know how to handle your kid either? Yay! Let's be friends.
5. He helps me develop communication skills. Empathy 101 goes something like this: Oh, you're mad at me, aren't you? You think I should have given you another cookie even though you already had twelve today and it's only 2 days before Christmas, don't you? You want to rip out my guts and eat them for dinner. Oh, that's too bad. That must be really hard for you.

Deer me!

2009-12-01T12:02:00.000-08:00

Mama: That's nice, dear.
K: Don't call me deer. I'm not a animal.

Visions of sugarplums

2009-11-29T19:50:00.001-08:00

L. saw me decorating with the Christmas lights, and he wanted a turn. What a great way to start dreaming about Christmas.

Walking girl

2009-11-28T20:43:00.000-08:00

Here she is, taking a step and falling down.

End-of-novel blues

2009-11-28T20:28:00.000-08:00

I usually get stuck at least once somewhere in the middle, but the very hardest part of a novel for me is the end. I'm trying to figure out why. I already know what's going to happen. I'm hitting the home stretch, and you'd think I'd find some momentum from what I already wrote to carry me through to the finish line.
Nope. So why is it so hard? Is it because I already know what's going to happen, so it's boring to actually write it? Is it because I know what has to happen so I'm afraid it won't work? Is it because I'm so close to being done that my mind is already at the finish line and my fingers don't want to exert the extra little bit of effort it takes to get me there?
No, I think it's because I know this is where I either fail or succeed. Either it works or it doesn't, and this is where I find out. Oh, sure, I'll revise, but the big undertakings are most daunting at two phases: just before you begin and just before you end. Even if you're not writing, any big adventure has its scary moments where all the demons in your head tell you you're going to fall flat on your face. And for me, they shout awfully loud when I get near the end. It seems too hard, the whole novel seems too ridiculous, and the prospect of revising it and getting it published is just as scary and laborious as writing a first draft. So abandoning it (and starting on my third novel) seems much easier than finishing what I've got. Of course it's not--I want to be able to remember what happens to my characters before I abandon them. I don't know if it gets any easier when you have an agent or editor cracking the whip behind you, but I'll tell you this--it sure is easy to procrastinate those final scenes in the final chapter when you've only got yourself to answer to. And the blogosphere. Whoops. Maybe I'll get back to work this week.

To outline or not to outline...

2009-11-19T20:22:00.000-08:00

At my writing conference, author Royce Buckingham mentioned how, when writers edit, it hurts so very much because they have to cut so much of their own beautiful writing. It feels like they're killing their children. So, he asked the question, "How do you avoid killing your children?" The answer: Don't have unwanted children!

In other words, if you have an outline, your writing won't wander all over the place. You won't have to cut much because you can stick to your plan. He also compared using an outline for writing a novel to using a plan to build a house. When he built his house, he didn't have to cut out huge rooms he'd already built. There were a few surprises along the way, and some small changes, but no expensive room-wrecking catastrophes.

I wrote (most of) my first two novels with no plan. It was fun to take a big journey without knowing where I'd end up. And what artist wants to limit their work by boring old boundaries? I've been pleasantly surprised by where it's taken me. I know where the Rocky book is headed, even though I haven't finished writing it yet, and I love how different parts are all coming together. How very Margaret Atwood of me.

But there are disadvantages, too. There have been moments where I didn't know what was coming next. I'd sit at the computer and nothing would come to me until I left the computer and sat down with a notebook to brainstorm ideas. Staring at a computer screen and feeling uninspired can be very discouraging.

So for the third novel, I'm going to try to outline and research first. I don't know whether or not it will work. But here's my guess. I think writing will go faster. I think it will save me time on revisions because there will be fewer plot inconsistencies. I think there will still be surprises. I'm worried that the manuscript will lose some spontaneity, and that my creativity (especially for non-plot aspects) will be hampered. We'll see. I won't get to it for awhile, but I'm excited to find out how outlining affects the writing process.

Story, story, story

2009-11-14T20:22:00.000-08:00

I have lots and lots to say about the writers' conference I just attended. Let me start with a question I came away with. The impression I left with was this: story is to publishing what location is to real estate. Everybody was talking about how words are secondary to the story. I get that you can't write a novel without a good story. But to me, a great story is not always what draws me in.

I don't like much of the plot-driven stuff that's out there. It's not all badly written, either. But if it's short on character development or has awkward transitions or clunky phrases or even if the words are bland, I get bored. I admit I still sometimes can't put the book down if the plot is exciting, but that's not what makes me love a book.

It's the art. It's the words.

I love classics like Middlemarch that make me think about human relationships. I love the great Russian authors who make me think about philosophical questions. I love books like Atonement just for their beautiful prose.

Make me think, make me cry, make me dream. Then the book will stay with me for longer than it takes me to read it. I like books that change me. And the story, well, to me that's almost background information. The plot is more like a supporting character. Story has to be there, of course, and it has to be well developed, but I don't care about the story if you can't make me care about the characters, if you can't help me learn something or force me to get out my everyday world and relate to it differently.

Today, an agent looked at some of my descriptive phrases and said to me, "Why should I care?" Good question. I've been thinking about it ever since. The answer is, "Because it's pretty! Because it paints a picture!" I'm not saying she was wrong. I've got to rip the entire manuscript to shreds anyway. But this train of thought led me to another question. Are pretty words enough? Does sheer beauty make a work of art matter?

I'm not saying I'm Tolstoy, and you certainly would know I'm not if you read my first draft. I'm just asking the question because I like imagery. I like my prose almost poetic. The fast-paced stuff doesn't interest me unless there's some other compelling draw.

Like so many things, the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. But what do you think? Is story king or is there more to the story for you?

A writer's work is never done

2009-11-02T20:37:00.000-08:00

My oh-so-perceptive writing group was right on target with the first chapter I brought for them to read last week. I probably should have waited until I was finished my draft before showing it to them. And here's why: they reminded me of how much there is to do.
It's not that they were super critical or unfair or even unbalanced. It's just that they were right. And, looking at the flaws in the first chapter, I could see how I've carried some of those faults right through the entire manuscript. We're talking serious voice issues here. It's not easy to pretend to be a fifteen-year-old boy, folks. Especially a sarcastic, funny, crass, hormonal boy with attitude.
Except for the funny part. I can do that. I'm HILARIOUS. Have you ever read my blog?
They didn't dwell so much on my other serious issue--plot. For some reason, when you write a novel, you're supposed to have stuff happen. And it's supposed to make sense. When I write, I just fly. I don't plan ahead and I don't edit until after I'm done. In some ways, that's good because it allows my thoughts to come through uninhibited. In other ways, it's a pain because my plot (and my subplots) wander all over the place. I don't focus enough on the stuff that matters, and I get too wrapped up in secondary characters.
Now it's that much harder to write, knowing I have so much to fix. Imagine you plant a field. Then a professional farmer comes along and tells you some of the rows are in the right place, but now that you've got everything planted, you've got to pull up about 3/4 of the plants, re-sod a quarter of your field, and then double the size of your field somewhere else. It's enough to make me not even want to finish planting the field.

No NaNoWriMo for me

2009-11-02T20:29:00.000-08:00

If you are unfamiliar with this glorious acronym, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. In other words, it's a bunch of people who commit online to make themselves crazy with words for about thirty days. Being the kind of person I am (i.e., the kind who enjoys giving herself impossible tasks just to see if she can do them), I considered it. I have an idea for a third novel I'm excited to write. But (sigh) there are lots of reasons it just won't work this year.
I'm committed to attend our local SCBWI writer's conference, which takes place in November. I am getting close to the end of my WIP--almost 200 pages. Then there are revisions for that manuscript as well as a major overhaul of the first novel. I'm not going to get anywhere if I can't finish the projects I already have underway. Plus I have a nine-month-old. I can write eight or so pages some days, but when I do, it's a fluke. I have never been able to keep that kind of pace consistently. You could argue that it's because I haven't committed to do so. And you'd be right. But I just don't want to deal with that kind of insanity this year.

recent quotes from kiddos

2009-10-30T15:47:00.000-07:00

L: Mom, I'm never going to get that toy. I wasn't built to be good for three days. I was only built to be good for two days.

K: (seeing a random pen mark on my shirt) Mom, we don't draw on people, we draw on paper. Remember that story?

Baby speaks

2009-10-22T13:43:00.000-07:00

This clip is about two weeks old. I've already bragged about her first word, so now you can see proof.

Stress

2009-10-17T16:00:00.000-07:00

Chalk this one up under "Things Nobody Warned Me About". Motherhood is stressful.
Who'da thunk it? I mean, don't mothers sit around all day in their housecoats and curlers watching soap operas? And since millions of women have done it for who knows how many years, it can't be that hard, can it?
Truth is, motherhood is more like taking a triple course load in a never-ending semester.
Let's discuss.
1. Money. Unless you finally managed to find a nursery that carries money trees, there is just never going to be enough. You can scrimp all you like, but your kids keep growing and eating and wanting toys. And they don't particularly appreciate it if you buy their shoes three sizes too big in order to economize.
2. Time. Another luxury triple-load college students hoard, judging by how little of it is left over for me. I'm not even talking about not having time for those cutesy little crafty hobbies those home-schooling mothers of eight seem to create out of thin air. I don't even have time to keep the house clean. I've been meaning to clean out the diaper pail for days, for example. And the dusting? There are some cabinets I haven't dusted since we moved in. When I actually have a moment to myself, the list of things to do is longer than the grocery check-out line. But usually going to the bathroom is first on the list. As I like to tell my kids, peeing is a priority.
3. Physical space. Sometimes, when I'm sitting at the computer, I move my elbows, just for the sheer joy of it.
4. Auditory space. When the kids are in bed and my ears stop ringing, I sometimes complete a whole thought in my head.
5. Oh, the pressure. Everybody thinks they know how to raise kids, especially magazine articles (5 simple ways to end temper tantrums) and people who don't have any. They also know how your house should look, how to produce the behavior you want, how to be a great wife, how not to lose your temper with your kids, how not to get them to turn out to be serial killers. So you feel like you don't measure up to the people who know better, even when "they" don't agree.
6. Oh, the frustration. How many times can you tell your child not to throw the toilet paper in the toilet until they get it? Why do you flap your lips up and down to suggest to your kid that telling you what's bothering him is far more productive than screaming? Why do you make dinner so that he can tell you how icky lasagna is and that you have to make him mac and cheese instead?
7. Oh, the built-up anger. See above. Then add kids whacking each other, bossing their parents around, pulling the cat's fur, biting you, and see how long you provide an example of productive ways to handle your emotions.
Then add cutesy little jokes from well-meaning clueless people about how little sleep or appreciation you get, how it's all worth it, how they wouldn't trade the time they spent at home with the kids for anything, etc. Really? That's too bad because if they want more of it, they can borrow a couple of my kids for a few hours.
Then take a deep breath (or a day off) and remind yourself that people who have actually survived parenthood say that it all passes, sooner than you'd think. Promise yourself that somehow you will live through it, too.

Happiness and sleep are synonyms

2009-10-07T21:27:00.001-07:00

For the last couple of weeks, Baby has gone to bed before 9:00. Let me tell you, there is major rejoicing around here. The extra couple of hours in the evening has allowed me to reclaim some physical space and some brain space. When she didn't sleep until 10:30, things were not so happy. How do you keep small objects out of baby's mouth when you don't have time to pick them up off the floor? How do you set the table when you don't have time to do the dishes? How do you send off magazine queries when you can't type your own name?

Easy. You just convince your baby that everyone would be much better off if she went to sleep at the same time as the other children. She complies, and life gets much happier.

Mark and I clean up the clutter and do the dishes. Then there's still time to write a page or two in my novel, email a couple of queries, and still more time to waste on Facebook. Not that I've mastered the art of getting up before the kiddos like I thought I would when the late night baby parties ended. But I'm starting to feel like a person again. So now I just have to convince the dishes that everyone would be much happier if they would wash themselves.

Just because I'm used to rejection doesn't mean I like it

2009-10-05T20:35:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, I'm doing very well to be writing and publishing lots of articles. But here's the irony in my life lately. If I really, really am excited about something I want to write, and I slave over the query until it's letter-perfect, then guess what? It comes right back to me. On the other hand, those queries I just throw out without very much forethought often result in assignments. Then I get surprised and then I realize that yes, I'm going to have to write this thing. And then, as I get into it, I find it's harder to write and requires much more brain space than I had planned to give it.
I don't mind writing the off-the-cuff stuff. I'm glad to be writing at all. I just hope that some time, my pet projects will get a voice in the world, too.

Hope it works!

2009-09-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

My friend Sydney (see link to her author blog on the right) lent me this book. I don't think the techniques in the book work for every child. But for "easily frustrated, chronically inflexible" children like L, I think it's worth a try. To sum up: There are three baskets you put your child's behavior in. Basket A is the stuff that you will not bend on, that you're willing to endure a temper tantrum for. Usually safety falls in this category. Basket B is the stuff you're willing to talk about, so you and your child can negotiate and both be happy. And Basket C is the stuff you're just going to forget about for awhile.

The premise of the book is that children who throw fits when things don't go their way aren't purposely trying to be manipulative, difficult, bratty, etc. Just as some children walk later than others, some children develop the ability to handle frustration later than others. They know their behavior is inappropriate, but they lack the skills to express what they need, so they end up yelling, kicking, crying, etc. Consequences (rewards and punishments) usually don't work for these children because they don't have the skills to figure out that if a consequence follows a behavior once (or even twenty times), the same consequence will follow in the future.

So a parent's job is to figure out (using Basket B behaviors) how to train the child to handle frustration. You have to intervene when the child is in "vapor lock" before meltdown starts. After meltdown, reasoning with the child is impossible. When you see the first stages of vapor lock, you have to get in there quickly by empathizing. Then you take them down still further with humor, distraction, etc. Then you talk about the behavior, encouraging them to find a happy medium you can both be happy with. "You don't want to go to the grocery store right now. You want to go to the toy store. How do you think we can find a solution?"

I just finished reading, so I haven't tried out many of the ideas yet. But when I have, it's hard! It's hard not to lose your temper, not to think you have to show them who's boss, not to think you can't let them say no to you in that tone of voice. But Dr. Greene maintains that if you follow his method, meltdowns will actually decrease because the child will not get frustrated so often, and you have better control over when meltdowns actually occur.

I think Dr. Greene is right about the consequence thing. It never has worked for L. He truly can't think at all when he gets to meltdown stage. L often tells me he loses control, or that his brain makes him do things his body doesn't want him to.

So I hope it works for us. I'll let you know.

Shoot for mediocrity

2009-09-19T12:35:00.000-07:00

I hate it when people tell mamas to stop obsessing about everything. You don't have to be a perfect mama, they say. Just do your best. My friend Diana used to have a quotation that read: "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss you'll land among the stars." Not sure who said it. I asked the internet, and it doesn't know either.
I'm not shooting for the moon anymore. Not when it comes to motherhood. I don't fret about the shelf I didn't dust. I'm not really concerned about the junk in the drawer or the unorganized pantry. Nope.
I am aiming for mediocrity, and sometimes I don't even get that far. Who has time to worry about straightening their hair when some days it's a challenge to get a shower? Who has time to match their kids' clothes when they don't even remember to wash breakfast off their kids' faces? It's not that I think I have to be perfect. But decent would be good. Most days, I don't even get that far. It's kind of discouraging.
All I want is for my kids to eat, have clean clothes, and not impale themselves or choke on random household objects. But even that's too much some days, and the kids go to school with dirty clothes and very little nutrition while I scoop action figure heads from baby's mouth. So if you don't get to mediocrity, where do you end up? Just breathing, baby. At least we can still manage that.

Silly financial tips

2009-09-19T08:42:00.000-07:00

I suppose the people who read Money magazine are more likely to be well-off than the rest of us. But even they need to save money, which is why their cover story on ways to save money made me laugh. I'm always looking for ways to trim a few bucks, so it's a good thing Money knows how to get me to cut back.
For instance, I'll have to stop shelling out the big bucks for those monthly touch-ups at the upscale hair salons. Who knew you could do it yourself for just the cost of the bottle? And the lawn guy? It's a good thing they told me to do the mowing and weeding myself. I might never have thought of that. Who needs to go to Saks when you can get designer jeans online for hundreds less? Other nuggets of wisdom include brown bagging your lunch, cutting back on your cable package, and going to the library instead of the bookstore.
Please. I think it's insulting in an economy like this one, when people are cutting back on clothes, vacations, and groceries, to tell them to give up their Caribbean cruises.
They did have one tip, however, that we're already implementing: refinancing your home. We'll be saving more than a percentage point. That's a change I think we can live with.

Baby's first spoken word

2009-09-05T20:09:00.000-07:00

It was not mama, not daddy. It was kitty. Baby M is very fond of the cat.

We are not sure, however, that the cat returns the sentiment.

YA trends

2009-09-04T22:12:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about something Sara Zarr mentioned at the conference I went to recently. She was talking about religious fiction because that's what some people in our group were writing. About 85% of teens say God is important in their lives, and that's huge. Of course, religious fiction has always been around, mostly as niche fiction that only highly religious teens would be interested in reading. As for mainstream religious fiction, though, there hasn't been much. When you consider how many teens believe in God, it's strange that this population has been underserved for so long. So religious fiction is going to be a huge trend in the upcoming years.
First of all, why isn't the religious fiction that's already out there selling? I think there are a couple of reasons.
One: Teens don't want to be preached at. If there's a moral an adult is trying to shove down their throats, teens will see through that. If they want preaching, there's church. I think teens are more interested in how a religious person lives. Not how to be moral, or religious, or faithful, or even to make good choices. I'm not saying there isn't a place for that. It's called church, and plenty of teens attend. But they don't want to go to church when they read. Teens just want to know how to live. And religion is a part of that.
Two: It's got to be good. Maybe authors are intimidated by the New York culture that the publishing world is immersed in. Maybe they're afraid it won't sell. But there isn't much of it out there, and so the pickin's are slim.
I don't know if other authors feel this way, but I steer clear mostly because I think it would be so hard to write it well. I mean, how intimidating is that? To put what you believe in into print for thousands of people to scrutinize? Even the genre sounds scary to me.
Three: Another reason I am afraid of religious fiction is this: It can't be cheesy. That's even more embarrassing than preaching. Warm fuzzies that make readers cringe. It's fiction, but on some level, it had better be real. For someone who grew up listening to preaching, it's hard to translate scripture into contemporary characters. In sermons and scripture, everything but the lesson to be learned drops away. They need to be accessible to everyone. Not that there aren't subtle layers of understanding, symbolism, great dialogue, action, etc. But complex characters and ambiguity? Not so much. They usually draw straight lines of the either-or variety, but fiction is seldom that way, and when you try to create gospel-style simplicity in fiction, it falls flat.

I don't mean that creating good religious fiction is impossible. I just think the challenges are different when you start bringing in religious themes, ideas, and characters. And I'm excited to see what the next few years of religious fiction will produce.