09.27.06
Posted in Family Life at 11:26 am by Administrator
Four days, two airplanes and one head cold later, the prodigal author has returned to the comforting flock of her supportive family. Her homecoming was greeted with wails and jubilant cries.
Well, actually, as I was walking in the door, my son annoyed my daughter who then hauled off and punched my son. The ensuing wails coincided with my entrance and all I heard was “She hit me!” “He said shut up!” and they both went directly to their rooms, presumably to lick their wounds.
Welcome home, mom.
For a brief moment, I was tempted to turn tail and rush back to the airport. Surely the long security lines and overworked TSA Agents were preferable to screaming children. But the loving arms of my wonderful husband enveloped me and he said, “I’M glad you’re home. I missed you.”
Of course he missed me. Who wouldn’t miss The Mom when piercing cries were still showering down from above?
But soon, the wails subsided and the errant children came and sheepishly said sweet things like, “Mom, I’m glad you’re home. My brother is mean.” Visions of joyful reunions and happy homecomings continued to pop and burst in my mind, like bubbles out of a bubble maker. At least the dog had not left my side and was following me around, tongue hanging out, matching my every step. He at least was grateful for my return. He had no ulterior motives other than to lick my face and shower me with bad doggie breath.
But what, you say, about the conference?
In a word, fantastic. I not only learned vast amounts of ways to improve my craft, but I also got to spend the whole weekend with my dear friend and critique partner, Rita. We had a great time together and enjoyed the chance to meet lots of people. If I had taken my camera, you would see exactly who we hobnobbed with, but since I didn’t, alas, you will have to take my word for it.
I also had 2 separate editors/publishing houses request a proposal for my WIP (work in progress): The Bridal Party Series. I am frantically working to finish the manuscript so I can frantically work to create a proposal. Then I must find someone who is published and willing (for a fee, of course) to review the proposal and clean it up, make it tight, and put a pretty bow on it, with a piece of chocolate, for apparently the way to an editor’s heart is through chocolate (although I’m still not sure why, exactly).
In the meantime, the children have finally stopped punishing me for being gone and have given me the (belated) joyful reunion I so longed for, complete with multiple hugs and kisses and “I missed you so much” comments. My husband has cooked dinner every night since I’ve been home. Need I say more?
A resounding, collective sigh of relief has settled over this house. She’s back, they all say with smiles as they drift off to sleep. And she looks them over, lovingly and tenderly before dragging herself off like a slave to the computer.
She’s back, indeed.
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09.19.06
Posted in Family Life at 9:42 pm by Administrator
…and all through the house
Lynette is screaming and wailing
And throwing her mouse.
The children are nestled,
All snug in their beds,
Which is a good thing
‘Cause Mom might lose her head!
For tomorrow she leaves
On a journey so fair
To reach for her goals,
And not pull out her hair.
The ACFW Conference
Is but one short day away
She struggles for breviloquence
(Hey, not much rhymes with conference!)
And tries not to play.
The piano, it calls her.
Target does, too.
She writes silly poems
Better suited to a zoo.
Alas, she must focus
And write, write, write, write!
Or a swarm of mad locusts
Might swoop down and bite.
The clock, it is ticking
Loud and so fast
Yet nothing is clicking
So she thinks she will pass.
But no, Rita replies
Time will not wait
Sit down at your desk
And write ’til it’s late!
Heeding her words,
I sit here and stare
At an empty computer screen
And wonder what I should wear.
Perhaps when next I write
I will be almost published
And if not, then I’ll return
And try to get un-unpublished.
Signing off until after ACFW Conference 2006!
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09.12.06
Posted in Family Life at 7:10 am by Administrator
The school bus is new to us this year. My two children have always ridden to school in one car or another. I usually have had the, ahem, privilege of getting into my car, either in the morning or afternoon, and traipsing off to school to drop off or pick up my precious angels.
This year, the school bus stops literally outside my front door. I commented this morning to my husband that my only regret is that I have to actually be dressed to take my kids to the bus stop…PJ’s aren’t really fashionable bus stop attire. Especially not old mom’s PJ’s (as my daughter perceives it). However, as my husband so wisely pointed out, it is a small price to pay for the joy of walking out the door, putting my children on the bus and walking back inside, all within the space of approximately 3.5 minutes. It’s a beautiful thing.
My son, who is in first grade, was exceedingly overjoyed at the prospect of riding the bus this year. My daughter, to a lesser degree, was also thrilled. But for TJ, well, it has always been a lifelong dream to ride a bus to school. Now, think about it…how often do you get to witness the realization of a lifelong dream? Rarely, if ever, I’d say. For instance, I always wished to be a concert pianist. On a good day, I can play a stirring rendition of “Heart and Soul.” We’ll leave it at that.
But for kids, how cool is it to see something they’ve longed for repeatedly in their short lives come to fruition? For Molly, I think it will be when she can actually say, “I’m 16 now” as opposed to “I wish I were 16.” For TJ, it’s the bus.
Molly is ultimately too cool for school and often prefers to blow me a kiss instead of actual contact. I mean, seriously…how embarrassing!
On the other hand, TJ cannot leave the house, the street or get near the bus without a full body tackle hug. While the wonders of riding the bus are still new and exciting to him, he also faces it with a small amount of trepidation. He may be in first grade, but he’s still 7. He is a homebody and loves to do things with the family. So when he gets on the bus, it’s bittersweet. He’s heading away from home and mom (bitter), but he’s also riding the bus (sweet!).
And every day, the last words out of his mouth are, “Wave to me, Mom!”
Let me tell you, to this mother’s heart, the reaction for me is also bittersweet. I am happy they are heading to school, but I fear for them to be sad, lonely or afraid. I stand there, waving madly like a fool (and I think secretly, Molly is glad I wave to her, too. She just may never admit it), flapping my arms, blowing kisses and generally doing exactly what Molly fears: embarrassing my children. But hey, that’s what parents are for, right?
So when TJ says, “Wave to me, Mom!,” I must say, it is a beautiful thing.
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09.08.06
Posted in Writing at 4:54 pm by Administrator
Not the kind from the song you’re probably singing along to right now. But the kind that settle in your stomach and flutter around, dropping kisses of nerves and anticipation and fear and excitement throughout your insides.
Those are the kind I have right now. The mean reds have been replaced by butterfly kisses. Angry, mutant butterflies.
I have taken a major leap of faith, fear, stupidity (choose your own motivational word) in my writing career. I have submitted an original work to a writing competition. Now, this is not, in itself, a major thing. People do it all the time. What makes this submission special is the venue.
Avon Publishers has created something called “Avon Fanlit.” In late August, a panel of editors and authors came up with six potential storylines and asked readers to vote on which one they would most like to read. The idea is to have a collaborative work created by random authors (mostly unpublished). Each person can submit 2 or 3 entries per chapter, then the polls open and readers from all across America can then vote on the chapter they like best.
The pressure is intense because not only did I have to write the chapter (the easy part) but I had to come up with a tagline (150 characters or less) and a short description (500 characters or less). I am not a sales person. I just write and hope someone else will go on & on about how wonderful my writing is. This time, however, I am forced to rely on my own talent (gasp) and hope and pray someone sees enough potential in 150 characters to keep reading.
So today I did all of the above: submitted a chapter (easy), wrote a short description (not so easy), and a tagline (rottenly, stinking hard).
If you are so inclined, feel free to go to Avon Fanlit and check out my entry. It’s called “Uncovered.” And vote (or not) as you see fit.
In the meantime, I shall be a bumbling, neurotic, butterfly-filled mess.
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09.06.06
Posted in Writing at 6:12 am by Administrator
…lovely images, images that make you smile or laugh, images that change reality and distort it to an unrecognizable shape.
But let me ask you, what about nightmares? What defines a nightmare for you?
Desperately trying to run somewhere and being stuck in the mud? Trying to answer a ringing telephone but your hands are heavy as lead and you can’t move them? Showing up at school for a very important final exam several hours late? Showing up at school for that very important exam, late and naked? Shudder. Moving right along.
What about the dreams where you dream of something you desperately want and in your dream you get it? It’s perfect, it’s wonderful–it’s too good to be true. And then you wake up, realize it was all a dream and are depressed and sullen for the rest of the day. Or the dreams that haunt you when in reality you have lost something or someone of tremendous value but in your dreams it or they are returned safely to you. Oh the relief! Then you awaken and discover with heart-sinking rapidity that all is not as it seemed and you are once again alone, without the thing or person you most want near you.
I have had all these types of dreams, as, I am sure, have most people. But two nights again, I had a new dream/nightmare experience. I had a nightmare that was so horrible and awful that I began to sob. Now, I have cried in dreams before. The cries seemed so real that I awoke, but it was to a dry face, and I was so relieved it was over that I quickly went back to sleep. This time was different.
In this dream, I had had an argument with my mother and went into a closet where I promptly sat down and sobbed my heart out. Tears streaming down my face, shuddering sobs, the whole deal. Then I woke up…and I was still sobbing, tears were still streaming down my face and I could not quit crying.
It was horrifying.
I knew it was not real. I knew I was awake and could stop crying but I could not shake the sensation of pure and utter sorrow. I lay in bed for several minutes before the sobs finally died down and I was able to take a steady breath.
It stayed with me for the rest of the day. My mother & I even laughed about it. But I could never quite forget that moment when I awoke and found my face wet with tears and my body aching from the wrenching sobs.
Remember the mean reds? I think they manifested themselves in my dreams…and they were not sweet.
They were true to their name.
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