Be Careful What You Wish For

So, with a month from the end of this year, I have been thinking about my 2012 Goals. Take a look at them here.   Here's where we stand...

1. Book Deal: not yet (but read on)
2. New car: very likely (read on, I told you...)
3. Skyfall: OH. YES. (wiping drool off chin)
4. Exercise: not every day, but most days, and I've lost weight this year.
5. Spine: Stronger, maybe mild scoliosis (figuratively, new readers)
6. Dates: we've been pretty good, actually, in the latter half of this year.  Nights out are happening!
7. No apologies:  kinda like the spine--that is a work in progress.  Apologizing is part of me, but I am starting to accept who I am, and forcing others to when I am right.
8. Writing: well, that one has been a weird one.  I was writing every day for 2+ hours in the spring.  Got shot to shit during the summer (move, summer class, grandmother's funeral).  Fall started okay, but the Boy is in afternoon kindergarten, which is making it more challenging to actually get my writing time in.  Plus, the current home's desk set up is less than inviting.  I may start doing more on the laptop (shudder).

So, that is where I am.  Pretty good.  Now... about that book deal.  I finished Book 1: "The General's Heir", and passed it along to peer readers.  Got some great feedback... and decided that I had to rewrite the whole thing.  I needed to focus on my heroine.  So, rewrote the book into first person.  She's telling her story.  I expanded scenes, trimmed others, and finally told the story of what happened in Tejhaus before and after the rebellion, and how she came to decide to go to Stone Country.  The book is so much stronger.

I finished the rewrites at the end of August, and then started editing.  I finished the week of Thanksgiving, and promptly emailed David Hazard for a recommendation for a professional editor: I am funny with hyphens and ellipses...as my regular readers (ha!) know.  We set up a meeting to discuss finally working together (since I have money coming from my grandmother).

And then Wednesday struck.  I had a car accident.  My lovely little Honda Civic has been a loyal member of my family, but she's on life support, and her age ain't making it look good.  A 1997 coupe with 170K miles... if they don't declare it totaled, it will be a miracle.  I love that car.  It was the first car I picked out and bought.  She was overpriced, and used.  But I paid her off slowly (with the Husband paying as well after we got married), and she's been faithful and dependable.

So, yesterday, instead of focusing on the fact that my body had had a shock, and I needed to just read, I spent most of the day beating myself up for the accident.  Sure, I wanted a new car, but not til the money was there.  She was supposed to outlast the Saturn.  I went from quiet mourning to anger and back.

And then, late last night, I remembered my 2012 Goals.  I really had met some of them.  Maybe...just maybe, the stars are aligned, and I will meet the first goal.  On Monday, I plunge into revising my query letter and creating my spreadsheet for literary agents to hit.  When the editing is done, I am unstoppable.

I will it to be so.

Writing and Boob Jobs

Husband has been on the laptop, surfing, I guess.  I haven't been paying attention.  He notices me busily typing on my birthday present, a Kindle with keyboard.

Husband:  You like your birthday present?
Me:  I love it!
Husband:  So, you browsing Amazon or something?  Don't spend too much, ha ha!
Me:  No, I am working on my book.
Husband:  (finally looking up from the laptop, where he's been looking at  motorcycle pictures on Faceborg .  Don't know why--he'll be able to get a motorcycle the day after he buries me.) Wait.  You uploaded your book onto the Kindle?
Me:  Yeah!  I love reading it there!  It is so cool--
Husband:  You are just reading it?
Me:  Well, not really.  I am editing it.
Husband:  You are still editing it?
Me:  This is more about sentence structure, and verb agreement--
Husband:  Verb agreement?
Me:  Well, two revisions ago, I played around with writing it in present tense, so I missed stuff--
Husband:  In the last round of edits.
Me:  No!  In the last revision!
Husband:  What is the difference between editing and revising?
Me:  Hmmmm.  (thinking hard about how to answer this) Revising is making changes to the body of the literature.  Editing is making corrections.
Husband:  Okaayyy.
Me:  Oh!  See, revising is like getting a boob job, and editing is more like just wearing a better bra.
Husband:  ...I'm sorry, what?
Me:  Okay, bad example.  Revising my book involves me changing characters, or expanding scenes, or fleshing out backgrounds.
Husband:  Uh-huh.
Me:  And editing is fixing sentence structure.  Or something.
Husband:  So...
Me:  I started a revision back in January that didn't work out-- the whole present tense thing.  But I canned that and just went with making the story told from Elena's point of view, in first person.
Husband:  And...
Me:  I finished that in August, and now I am doing the last round of edits, so I can send it out again.  I am hoping by November?
Husband:  Okay.
Me:  So, yeah.  I am editing.
Husband:  ...Do you want a boob job?

Thank you for the Kindle.

Daniel Craig Helps to Save the World

I have this whole life where I am not chained to the computer.  Really.  I am not endlessly editing my first novel.  OR allowing Mark Zuckerberg to suck out the rest of my brains.  OR sending out pissy emails to my elected state officials.  Or writing blog entries.

See, in this other life, this alternative life, if you will, I have been secretly developing a project.  A dastardly project.  A warped, evil project that will result in Daniel Craig James Bond having to save the world from the fruits of my labor.

You see, here is the real plot for Skyfall.  Pay no attention to the "trailers".  They bear no resemblance to this script.  Read on...

Daniel Craig James Bond knocks on the front door of the house.  A dog begins to bark.  A female voice gently shushes the dog
ME:  Shut up, you idiot dog!  You don't have to bark at every damn thing!
Daniel Craig [yeah, I give up] lifts an eyebrow, giving that patented smirk.  A feminine shape appears at the side window, peering through the small gap in the curtains.  The female voice shrieks.
ME:  OH NO NO NO NO NO!!!  Please give me five minutes.  I won't destroy anything, I promise!

The sound of feet running up the stairs so the female can hastily slip on a sexy dress and her killer red suede high heels.  Daniel Craig checks his Omega watch and looks at the black lab, who is eyeing him through the window and madly wagging her tail.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Really, if this is a bad time, I could come back later.  I have a few Vesper Martinis to down.
The door suddenly opens.  I am standing there in a sexy red cocktail dress with the killer red suede high heels.  I have one hand concealed behind my back.  
ME:  Don't make a move, Mr. Bond.  I think I can persuade you to forget her, and those crappy martinis.
There is a momentary tightening around his eyes.  He decides to take the weapon away.  He grabs my arm and finds that I am holding only my phone...  There is a subtle line between his eyes-- wonderful acting!
DANIEL CRAIG:  This is a phone.
ME:  Yes.
DANIEL CRAIG:  How are you going to take over the world with a phone?  I am capable of defusing bombs, you know.
ME:  I am not going to take over the world, Mr. Bond.  I am merely going to change it... For the better.
DANIEL CRAIG:  You have one minute to tell me how, or I shall show you what I can do with my little finger.
ME:  (smirking)  Is that supposed to be a disincentive?  You are welcome to use all ten fingers.
DANIEL CRAIG:  (not showing any reaction)  You have fifty seconds.
ME:  Fine.  Look.
My fingers tap a few times, and a phone app appears.  It is The Daily Toast.  He watches over my shoulder suspiciously for a moment, and then his handsome face relaxes.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Really?  You think you will change the world with a funny drink-of-the-day calendar?
ME:  Pick a day, Mr. Bond.
Daniel Craig's eyes dart to me and then back at the phone, certain it must trigger a bomb or incendiary device.
ME:  Pick M's birthday, Mr. Bond.
His fingers scroll through the archive, and come upon the day.  He reads the special occasion for the day, and then the mixed drink to match.  A brief chuckle escapes his lips.  Absorbed, he explores the app, and does not notice as I disappear.
DANIEL CRAIG:  This is actually an amusing drink-of-the-day calendar, Ms...
He looks up, and realizes I am no longer next to him.  He whirls to find me standing behind him, one hand concealed behind my back.  His eyes narrow.
DANIEL CRAIG:  What now?
I smile, and hold out to him the drink-of-the-day he chose.  He eyes me suspiciously, looking me up and down, lingering on my amazing shoes.
DANIEL CRAIG:  I don't intend to drink that.  I have no idea what you might have actually put into it.
ME:  You think I gave you poison?  (I do the requisite evil laugh)  Very well, Mr. Bond.  I will try it first.
I take a sip, and then offer him the glass.  He just looks at me.
ME:  Oh for the love of pete, you are a suspicious fellow.
I offer him a chair, which he eyes suspiciously.  After rejecting three other seats, we sit on the front step, the dog watching us happily through the window.  I am still alive after five minutes by this time, and he reluctantly samples the drink.  He is suddenly happy, and he smiles at me, in that charming, minimalist way he has.
DANIEL CRAIG:  That is good.  And what a great app.
ME:  I know!
Suddenly,  his hand is on my throat.  His eyes are narrowed suspiciously.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Then what is your evil scheme?
ME:  (gasping through the grip on my neck) It isn't really evil, Mr. Bond!  I just thought people might benefit from learning about a fun holiday, or historical event, or cultural spotlight.  And everyone loves celebrating with an appropriate cocktail.
DANIEL CRAIG:  And the humor?
ME:  I'm a funny gal.
DANIEL CRAIG:  You expect me to believe you did this all on your own?
ME:  No!  I have a partner.  He knows how to do technical and web stuff!  But please don't choke him!
Daniel releases me and stands.  He goes down the steps slowly, lost in thought.  He turns, and I think he might have caught me checking out his ass.  He looks at the shoes again-- they are clearly bugging him for some reason.
DANIEL CRAIG:  One more question.
ME:  Of course, Mr. Bond.
DANIEL CRAIG:  How much does your app cost?
ME:  99 cents.  And you can get it for Android or iPhone.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Thanks for the drink.  I was thirsty.
He dashes off to save the world, or something.

[Daniel, if you read this and want to try our app, I would admire you even more than I already do, and would give you a promo code, so you could get it for free. Oh, and for those people who don't understand humor or satire, no, this is not an actual scene from the script to Skyfall.  Actually, it is.  And Daniel Craig wants YOU to buy the app.  Don't make him come after you...]

Conspiracy Theories

Wow.  It feels like a conspiracy.  Life, the universe, and everything is against me working on my book.  It is almost eerie.

(I like conspiracy theories.  I visited the alien museum in Roswell, New Mexico and became a member for a year.  I loved it.  It was hilarious.  Really.  I bought a cute t-shirt for their espresso bar.  On the other hand, I do believe Kennedy was probably just shot by Oswald, and Ruby was just irritated and had a gun, being a Texan.)

So, this is why I think there is a conspiracy working against my brain being in a work mode.

1) VIRUS FACTOR:  My son caught a cold...which he then passed to me...which eventually got my husband sick as well.  There is also a stomach bug flying around the neighborhood that has hit no fewer than three households with children my son's age.  I have actually done some cleaning--Clorox wipes are a mother's friend.  Really.  The urge to clean increases exponentially in presence of snot, diarrhea and vomit.

2) BEST FRIEND FACTOR:  My Best Mommy Friend and I got into a political disagreement.  (Not to be confused with Best Friend Actress--she and I have one complete brain between us, in that we might as well share it, since we have never disagreed on a single idea or issue or opinion.)  Anyway.  I was being my typical self and hyperbolizing, and got BMF going.  She and I don't see eye-to-eye on a number of political issues, which is fine, but I shoulda known better.  It is all good now, but it left me with an unhappy feeling, obviously.  Next, I actually had the opportunity to socialize this weekend... and GASP... I took it.  I met the Husband and some of his co-workers for Happy Hour in DC, and then we had dinner with Male Best Friend.  The next night, I met up with my two Arts Council Best Friends... or Best Friends Formerly of the Arts Council? We only groaned about the arts council for five minutes.  We laughed most of the rest of the time.

3) WEATHER FACTOR:  Okay, really?  The weather guys must fear the legions of school-age children burning them in effigy.  They keep teasing us with snow.  I want snow.  Everyone keeps saying that I am tempting the gods, but at this point, I would sell my gods to the highest bidder if it would get us even 4 inches that would stick.  Instead it has been bloody cold or bloody warm or bloody wet.  Huh, kinda sounds like winter, when I think about it.

4) CREDIT CARD FACTOR:  Our credit card got hacked this Friday.  We found this out while we where supposed to be in DC having a wild and wonderful time.  Thanks a lot, thieves.  Not only did you fucking spoil my night out, you also stole my credit card and forced a lot of phone calls, account checks, and tummy rumbles.  May Astomach virus find you and cause spew from both ends.

5) HUMAN RIGHTS FACTOR:  Oh, hell, I talked about this here.  Let me congratulate a bunch of white guys in Richmond, Virginia for choosing to lay off the minority populations for a bit and concentrating on suppressing the majority.  Yeah, morons-- women make up 51% of the population.  We know where you live.  We live with you, we take care of your households.  We are legion.  Or something.  Anyway, you don't want us to have birth control?  Fine.  You guys are officially cut off.

6) BAD SEED FACTOR:  Okay, the Boy isn't the Bad Seed.  But he has been so bad at his Friday after-school program that he probably won't be going anymore.  He got in serious trouble and that took quite a lot of attention.

7) APP FACTOR:  Well, this is kinda cool.  My neighbor and I have designed, developed, and launched a phone app.  It is cool, but it takes time to do the content.

8) STUDIO TOUR FACTOR:  I know, I know.  I volunteered.  But it is getting rolling now.  And my work is increasing.

9) SLEEP FACTOR:  I lasted with the up-at-5AM for like three days.  The Boy was getting up even earlier, and then I was having my usual trouble sleeping some nights.  And then there was the whole getting sick thing.

So, whine whine whine.  I know.  Poor me.  But seriously-- these things have majorly intruded.  I want to write.  I would love to write.  I am still writing, but only during the normal times, when the Boy is not here, and when I don't have a meeting, or am too upset about life, the universe, and everything.

Things are going well, however.  I finished the storyboard, and a list of tasks for each chapter.  I am making progress.  I am doing good work.  I guess I just feel like I am doing good work more when I have time to think about it.  I love it when ideas are simmering all day, or when I dash out the shower to grab my notebook or phone to make a quick note.  Now, it is taking me time to get there, and I am thankful that I have the edits to do, versus having to create.

I sometimes wish I could be alone for even a week, and just work on it, without thinking about my family, my outside projects, illness or anything else.  Just me and the computer, with a timer set to remind me to take a break to eat.

2011: A Year in Review

..." I see this as a place to journal, a place to jump up and down, a place to vomit, a place to celebrate, a place to collaborate, and maybe, a place to make my decisions final."

Here I am, almost a year later.  The quote above is from my very first blog post.  I would say, based on that quote, that I was very successful...except that the blog was supposed to be about my three goals for 2011...

Plan for 2011

1. Figure out what you are NOT going to do, make it happen, and move on.

2. Walk three times a week.

3. Schedule two recharge breaks a month.

Anyway.  Plan 1... I figured out a lot of things... Meaning, I quit a number of things.  Arts council...  gone!  Acting... retired, mostly.  Art model... not pursuing it.  Teaching... winding down.  Volunteer... still going, but will be finished in June.  Writing?

That is what I decided I AM going to do.  Write.  I love it, and I am good at it.  I spent the last of my mad money to attend a hardcore writing workshop (4 days, all day).  I wrote and submitted a play for a playwrighting competition.  I have worked hard for most of the year, and have revised "The General's Heir" into a much tighter and stronger novel.  I not only finished it (mostly), but have three new readers in the process now of giving me feedback.  There is small stuff to fix, but they are easy fixes.  Additionally, I wrote my query letter, and sent it out to six literary agents.  Two asked to see my work, and ultimately passed, two sent form rejections, one sent a personally worded rejection, and I am waiting to hear back from the sixth.  Finally, I have begun to work with David Hazard, an amazing writing coach, who believes I have talent, and is pushing me in directions I need to go.

Otherwise?  Still married and mothering.

Plan 2... well, I went back and forth on the walking.  I pushed myself to walk the dog far more frequently than I used to... but does that count as good walking?  On one hand, I think no.  But, on the other hand, I have been walking longer walks with her than we used to, and I read somewhere that even an extra five minutes a day adds up over the course of the year.  So, I am going to give that one a VERY qualified success.

Plan 3... Well.  Hmm.  Not so much.

Okay, so thank you, 2011.  Next time... my Plan for 2012.

Rejection is a four letter word

Well, I TOLD myself to be prepared.  Rejection is the way, the truth, and the light.  Just because I got a 66% acceptance rate on the query letter, that didn't mean I was home free, yet.

So, yeah, I am not home free.  Both literary agents didn't feel like my material was a good fit for them.  Keep in mind, they liked the sell I did on the project.  So, the concept appealed to them.  And that is good.  I am pleased that I wrote a good query letter.

But, after reading (or skimming) a plot synopsis and the actual manuscript, they both rejected it as "not quite right for us".  That could mean so many things, in my mind.  And of course, as an actor, I am BRILLIANT at finding all the potential meanings in any simple phrase...

Rejection:
"This isn't quite right for us."
Meanings:
1.  This is a great novel, and while I would totally buy it in the bookstore, unfortunately, this project isn't the kind of project my agency represents-- they are out there, however:  go get 'em!
2.  This is a great novel, and I might buy it in a bookstore, but I am not sure how in the world we would help you sell it.  Since we have to pay our employees, we are gonna pass.
3.  Your concept is good, the writing is good, but I don't really like your characters-- your heroine is kind of unpleasant.
4.  Your concept is good, but your material is too grim for women's literature, too girly for mainstream, and plus you use too many adverbs.
5.  Your concept is good, but your writing isn't there-- we only represent literary projects, and should this publish, it would be a paperback on a rack, next to lesbian nurse novels.
6.  Your concept is good, but your project still has a lot of work to go-- try using more chapters, for instance, and maybe explain your world better... like before the 4th chapter.
7.  Your concept is good, but your writing sucks.
8.  Your concept is good, but your writing really, really sucks.
9.  Your query letter piqued my interest, but wow, it really didn't describe your book very well.  Who wrote the query letter?
10.  Abandon hope, ye hopeless stay-at-home mother.  I am sending out the word right now on you...

Well, back to square one.  I tell you, sending the first query letter out was difficult.  Getting the first rejection on the query letter was no big deal, since I got two hits on it.  But the first rejection of your material... man, that stings.

The inability to focus

I should be writing.  The Boy has been in school for over two weeks now.  The Husband, although home sick, is upstairs.  I have a new phone, but I figured it out.  The dishwasher is empty.  The library books are read.  The dog isn't bugging me-- she is sprawled out on the floor, not even snoring.  The weather is kinda dreary-- not enticing me to go outside and weed at all.  The house, although in clear need of the vacuum, is not terrible, and there is no one coming to visit any time soon.

So why am I blogging instead of tearing into the book?  The book is done.  Yeah, I have lots of things I can keep working on.  But, I could edit until the end of the world.  I just need to send it out to the people who have agreed to read it.

I am feeling unfocused, kinda blurry even.  I cannot keep from daydreaming.  I have no real desire to do anything.  I am not depressed-- I know what that is.  I am just going through the motions right now.  Part of me knows I need to recharge my batteries.  I have failed MISERABLY at Plan 3-- the whole taking time for me thing.  And this last two months have been terrible for that.  The OAP festival, the wedding, the houseguests, the illnesses, the Husband being gone for ten days and now ill for the third week running.  I am getting to take two days in October for myself, but not until the fourth weekend of October.

People can live for like six minutes without oxygen.  A day with no water.  A week with no sleep.  A month with no food.

How long can a person live without a recharge?  My guess is a long time.  But is it really living, or is it just living?

Irony

I vowed here to give up acting, right? I read it here. And here. I shared how suddenly I got some offers. Granted, they were for unpaid work. But, still, there they were. But that was gonna be it, right?

And then I checked my email that afternoon.... "Blah blah blah. Hey, will you be one of the actors in the new Christmas Follies?"

And then this week. "Hi, I own a murder mystery company,and would like to bring you on board, if you are interested."

So, here, I publicly declare: I no longer want a million dollars. Nope. I will give up my dream of a million dollars.

Oh, wait. That doesn't work. I have to reluctantly give up something that I care about, like acting, in hopes that the itch of something new, like writing, will be scratched. Remember what this blog is about, remember? "Not Doing It"

I really enjoy writing, and feel great satisfaction when I am writing. I feel this low grade urge ALL THE PHUCKING TIME to dive back into The General's Heir and finish that mutherphucker. I also have this new writing idea about zombies. I know, old hat now, but the itch doesn't care. This idea is simmering just like The General's Heir did. How I want to dig in...

And yet, acting calls, if you can call the clamoring a 'call'. More like a brick of noise to the side of the head. I won't do the follies, I think. One, I don't really want to, even if I love the producer. Two, really, if I am going to get pulled out of my writing from now on, it DAMN well better be for a paycheck. I am a mercenary, if nothing else. Or maybe a whore? Ha! I can see it now....

ME: Sorry, honey, no sex tonight-- I have to write.

HIM: Write? But I just put on the camo briefs you like!

ME: Think of this as my job. Just like the acting gigs.

HIM: Nope.

ME: What?

HIM: You are gonna have to spell it out for me. If I'm not getting any tonight, you have to explain.

ME: Okay, so, when I am sitting at the computer from 8-12 tonight, I am writing my book.

HIM: I thought you were finished with it!

ME: You are right. I am trying to finish the edits!

HIM: How is this like the acting gigs? I haven't seen you depositing any checks.

ME: Think about it like the rehearsals for the acting gigs. The paycheck just comes a little later.

HIM: I can buy that, I guess. But what is your time worth?

ME: Huh?

HIM: So, you have an acting gig. How much do you get paid?

ME: A hundred, I think, usually.

HIM: Huh. And how long are you gone when doing the acting gig?

ME: Oh, the usual? Two hours for the actual gig, but add another two for travel. So, four hours?

Him: So, you get twenty-five an hour for your time. Is that right?

ME: ...Well, I guess... when you put it like that...

HIM: And that doesn't include the rehearsal time, does it?

ME: ...Not as such...

HIM: 'Cause, hell, I have a twenty in my wallet, and we can be done in half an hour.

ME: ...Uh...

HIM: And, I will throw in a big O for you! You cannot get that kind of satisfaction from your paid gigs!

ME: ...But I am an Artist!

HIM: Artists gotta eat. Or, well, you know what I mean.

ME: But-

HIM: And you won't have to travel any farther than upstairs. And when we are done, you can go back downstairs and write!

ME: But I have to be in the right frame of mind, in the zone! I cannot just get on the computer and go through the motions, and fake it....

HIM: Uh-huh? What were you about to say?

ME: ...Um, get upstairs. And I will put on the sexy shoes.

(Apologies to the Hubby. He is incredibly supportive. Oh, and Happy Birthday to me. I am officially old now.)

God (or whomever) loves to make a liar out of me

Ha ha, so remember when I said no more acting until I was done with my book? That very week, I was approached to fill out an incomplete cast in one of the One Acts... and then as soon as that was done, I got begged to fill out another incomplete cast... for the very show that made me realize I needed to get serious. Did I say no? I sure tried. Shit.

But, now to brag a bit about how successful a month as an I artist I have

had. First, the visual art, the sculpture I mentioned awhile back, SOLD!!! And apparently, there have been lots of inquiries about it, people disappointed that it sold already, and wanting to know if I make them regularly. Hilarious. Take a look at it. I LOVE how a snarky piece about women being slaves to fashion, featuring a freaking HANGING... is in demand. Oh, and that red dot? That would be the SOLD sign...

And, the OAP festival went really well for me as a director. One of my plays was awarded the Golden Cow (yeah, really!) for Best Production, my lead actress was named Best Performer, AND the other script I directed won Best Script. So, my script didn't win anything, but I am over it. The production left quite a lot to be desired-- the actors were kinda all over the place... Oh well.

Now, I am winding down from the invasion of family, and should be able to dive back into writing, especially once school begins. I am so close to being done I can TASTE it...

Progress

First thing, dear Readers. Many of you have complained about the comment verification thing. I will attempt to dislodge it. I did add an easy feature, kinda like 'liking' on Faceborg.

Well. I did it. I sent my resignation letter. Even that made me anxious. I cannot wait 'til June 13. I believe I made a good decision, but I cannot help but worry about it. What can I say? I am a worrier.

The title of this post is 'Progress'. I believe I am making progress toward Plan 1: "Figure out what you are NOT going to do, make it happen, and move on."

-I have put my acting on hold for now. I can come back to it someday, but now is my time.

-I have set an end date for my arts volunteering. I may continue to serve, but not on the board.

And, on the positive side of my plan, I have settled into a nice writing place. I have been hard at work editing, simmering ideas, and strengthening my work. I have written a short play, a few short stories, and keep on working on the novel. Additionally, I have attended a writing workshop, and am part of a newly formed writing group. We just had our first meeting on Friday, and I got some good feedback.

I will admit, I am a little worried about this summer. The Boy is done with school at the end of May, and that means my 7.5 hours writing a week will be gone. I am scheduled to teach 5 weeks this summer, and during that time, I will make little or no progress on my novel. Before the end of June, I need to re-write a short play, and create a new melodrama... from scratch. Writing it will be... but not what I want to be doing. I am torn, frankly. I want to teach this summer-- it is my best earning period-- but I also kinda find myself hoping that maybe one class won't make.

Which brings me back to the last outside activity that steals my time and mental energies. Teaching. I love the teaching-- it keeps me in the theatre world, and challenges me. But, one of the pearls of wisdom I gathered from my writing workshop was this: Make writing a priority or don't.

Should I jettison EVERYTHING to give this my hardest effort? It would not be a bad thing to get this finally off my plate, and see if it is worth my time. Hell, if I could sell it in the next year, it would certainly come at a good time. My husband and I just agreed to rent our house for one more year, and that would get the Boy through his last year of preschool. If the book sold well enough, it could help us afford to buy what we are holding out for: a modest home on 10+ acres. (10, so the Husband can hunt, and I can garden.) It would be nice to be able to buy a new car (or two) since our cars are both approaching fifteen years...

I will have to think on it. In the meantime, I need to work on the 'move on' part of shedding the arts council. I woke up at 2AM this morning, and didn't go back to sleep until after 5AM.

Move on.

Daylight Savings Blows

I got out of my routine for almost three weeks! First there was the writing workshop, which I will talk about later. Then there was the trip to Texas... which I will talk about later. And then there was the whole 'I-chose-to-travel-outside-my-time-zone-right-when-Daylight-Savings-hit,-and-now-have-no-freaking-clue-what-time-it-is-now-that-I-am-back' thing. Which I won't talk about later, because I am going to talk about it now.

Yeah, so all last week, the first week back, neither the Boy nor I had any clue what we were doing. We were sleeping ridiculously late every day, we could not quite figure out what day it was, and we dragged like a Stanley Kubrick film. It was a surreal week, lemme tell you. The Boy actually napped a few afternoons, just because he was so confused and tired. Poor us.

But the trip to Texas was the best I have ever had since moving to Yankee land. Really. I crammed in a lot-- the first full day there, I spent with my parents, but crammed in four other sets of relatives, and also traveled from San Antonio to Temple. I got to see family and friends that I hadn't seen in years. Some are college buddies that I have seen fairly recently-- one I saw in February, and another last summer, and the last a few years ago, although we have spoken on the phone. Two sets of family I had not seen since my wedding-- almost ten years ago.

And, then I managed to also see two friends that I had not seen since high school... Both knew me back in the sixth grade. I hated Temple, and Central Texas, and really cut the chords as fast as I could. But, Facebook reunited us. And so I got to have lunch with Karen in Waco, and then hit the zoo with my folks and the Boy (I saw two rhinos!). And I got to go have a grown-up evening in Austin my last night in Texas, dinner and then karaoke, and had a great time singing old show tunes with Dylan, several college buddies and the two bridesmaids from my wedding. We did every show tune we could think of and also did a lot of Queen, and the requisite 80s crap. Good times.

Before the trip, I attended the writing workshop. I loved it. Not only was one of my best friends attending as well (so we got to carpool), but it was just a great time. I have a lot of concrete steps to use in my editing process, and.... as part of a writing exercise, I wrote a short story that kinda floored the rest of the class.

Lest it appear that I am bragging, let me hasten to share something that FINALLY sank in. I have been writing constantly for years. I thought I had just done it here and there. I thought that because I didn't count the play writing I have done for my classes. But I have written TONS of scripts. Enough that I really ought to collect them, edit them, and publish a collection of children's scripts. They've all been produced, and many of them re-written. So, was I able to spit out a nice short story that didn't require much explanation? Yep.

Anyway, the workshop was a great refresher for me as a writer, in that it reminded me of the basics of writing, and all the little elements I should be thinking of and working on. I also got some really new ideas, and I am excited to be using them as I work on my book.

My next blog, I will simply share the short story I wrote. I like it, and I hope you enjoy it too.

Hi. My name is General Madera.

I started writing the short story/ prologue. It could be its own novel. It could be. But, I am working to keep it manageable. Rather, I plan to mercilessly slash it down after I have it all done. It is around ten pages right now. I like editing down. I think this will be interesting. It is fun tweaking words, compressing information, and leaving what is important.

I am learning a lot of things about the world, and what happened. I actually had to take the time to write down a timeline of events. This involved flipping back and forth through a lot of material. It was worth it. I suspect the timeline for this world will become ever more detailed.

Oh, I didn't mention the really interesting part of this story. It is written in first person.... from General Madera's perspective. I started writing it in omniscient third person. Something was bothering me about it, though. It was reading as a really dry summary, in my opinion. I needed to spice it up, give it some personality. And the idea suddenly hit me. We have not met General Madera EVER. We only hear what other people think or say about him.

I rewrote it all. I am excited about this. But it made me realize something about my writing. I rarely use first person. Really. I cannot remember anything I have written in first person. I must have written in first person as part of a class, or something. I use first person in poetry, when I decide to make my sorry attempts. Rather, when I made my sorry attempts. I don't write poetry anymore. I don't really even like to read it.

Sidetrack. So anyway, I have a ten page short story written from General Madera's perspective, and we finally hear some firm information about what happened to the world, how he rose to power, and (drum roll) the Chihuahua rebellion. I am in middle of it right now.

I cannot wait to find out what happens.

OMG

I think I just finished it. Now to finish the editing, and then the peer review begins.

I just finished it.

A blog? (the obligatory boring introduction)

Confession: I have no idea how to keep or maintain a blog. I follow a few blogs, mostly friends who are more interesting than Facebook would have you believe. I do not know how to design. Or what Html means. I am not certain at this point if I know how to post a link, or a picture. Do I think my blog looks pretty BORING right now? (yup.)

HOWEVER. I am going on a journey this year. I have three GOALS. I say goals, rather than New Year's Resolutions, because... well, I am not sure why, but GOAL seems more weighty.

(oh, crap, I just tried to cut and paste into this, and it scared me. I will just retype it...)

Plan for 2011

1. Figure out what you are NOT going to do, make it happen, and move on.

2. Walk three times a week.

3. Schedule two recharge breaks a month.

(hey, I figured it out... sorta. I had to fiddle around with the document... yeah, I typed out my New Year's PLAN... because it is a PLAN and not GOALS apparently.)

The second is fairly standard, I am sure. Get in shape, blah blah blah. The third needs no explanation save that I have a 4 year old. An approximate translation could read: introduce the concept of Daddy/Boy dates on the weekends...

I am sure you noticed that the first one is stated negatively. There is a reason for that. I am an actor. I am a teacher. A writer, a director, art model, wife, board member, friend, daughter, arts volunteer, oh... and a stay-at-home mother. Whatever that means.

And I am 35. I am noticing the signs of aging. Worried? Not really. As a non-ingenue look in the field of acting, I welcome finally looking old enough to play the good roles that are now available... except I am not pursuing my acting. I am not really pursuing anything. I am 35, and I am trying to do so many things that I am doing none of them really well. Except motherhood. And that ain't gonna last.

(oh for the love of pete... I have this $@#&% margin floating around, and I cannot figure it out!!!)

Why add another project to the mess? I am figuring out what I am NOT gonna do, remember? I am on a journey in 2011 to figure out which of those roles I am going to jettison. (SPOILER ALERT: I will not be dropping off the Boy at the orphanage, or divorcing my husband.) I see this as a place to journal, a place to jump up and down, a place to vomit, a place to celebrate, a place to collaborate, and maybe, a place to make my decisions final.

So, why read this? The journey might be interesting. Oh, and I am kind of funny, and irreverent. Sometimes people don't get my sense of humor. I can post it, and laugh about it... to the sounds of chirping, and it won't freaking matter, since I have NO idea how to promote this, other than inviting friends to read, which I won't, since I hate promoting myself... which is also a reason I have a slow acting career. I think I mentioned that.

I may also be posting writing samples. I wrote a novel... well, actually, two. It will be a small series, eventually. If I can finish editing and begin attempts at publishing.

All done with my first blog post. If anyone can give me some *@&$# pointers on format, I will cheerfully accept them.