A nomination! Gasp!

I was nominated for an award this morning.

It's not the first time--in fact, I think this is the third--but it's a shock every time. The emotion of it, the surprise, is a kick in the gut. There was a lot of screaming going on this morning.

That's right, folks: I was nominated for Worst Mother Ever.

I think the direct quote from the nomination was "You are the Worst Mother EVER! You never let me do ANYTHING!" After that it sort of drifted off into a howl, so I didn't get it all down.

She's six, not thirteen. {sigh}

Fortunately, twenty minutes later I was nominated for Best Mother Ever. Hey, you take what you can get.

Speaking of which, can I get a crown over here? A sparkly one with gems? Surely one of the nominations deserves a crown?

Randomness

I appear to be having one of those weeks when I can't post anything of substance. Snips of thought are all I have, so snips are what you get.

Snip: There was a moose in my mom's back yard yesterday. A MOOSE. Just a-sittin' on the lawn. The rangers had to come shoot it in the butt and haul it away. It was most amoosing. (sorry)

Snip: Child is getting a new tooth...behind the baby teeth, with the baby teeth still in place. They call 'em shark teeth, apparently. We went to the dentist today fully expecting that he was going to pull the two bottom front teeth, but were reprieved for a couple of months. Whew. However, we had x-rays done, and the size of her permanent teeth are astonishing. Dentist predicts either she will be much taller/bigger than we expect, or we will have friendly relations with the orthodontist.

Snip: My goal is to have 3000 words on Melody by the end of this week, 5000 by the end of this month. Finished draft by end-of-year. I can do that.

Snip: Finally, it's summer. 80 degrees. I have a tank top on. Yay.

Join me on the rollercoaster

Random mood swings...

UP: We did it! We gave Obama the final boost, and he really got the nomination! Woot!

DOWN: It's. Freaking. Snowing.

UP: {looks at computer, at the news reports} Woot!

DOWN: {looks out window}

UP: In 5 more posts, I will be at 500 posts! I must celebrate.

DOWN: *work program flashing at me insistently*

UP: *Life Stuff*

DOWN: *Life Stuff*

I think I need some drugs. Or some more coffee. Or some other sort of mellowing agent...like...like...like the chocolate and peanut butter Ghirardelli bar I hid in my bag this morning! YES! {rummaging}

Like there's no tomorrow

Last night was the first performance of Child's dance recital. Of course she was utterly cute and perfect (whether she did the steps or not), and when she's on stage I can't look at anyone else but her. She glows for me.

When she's not on stage...well.

I was a ballet dancer for 8 years. I was in a professional ballet company (even though I was a teenager). I also did tap, jazz, and modern. I am cursed for the rest of my life with the dancer's eye.

This means I see how it should be, each move: arms, hands, fingers, legs. Extension. Arch. I see whether a movement is on beat or off. Whether the group is together the way they should be. Whether everyone hits their jumps at the same time, who is weak at turning left, who can dance fine on their own but doesn't do well as part of a group. It's similar to when you learn to be a writer and you have trouble reading just for pleasure anymore--you see craft, or lack of craft, everywhere.

But I realized again last night, watching girls of all ages and all different skill levels on that stage, a vital truth. It is NOT, ever, the most important thing to be technically perfect. It wasn't the technically perfect girls my eye was drawn to, that I enjoyed watching.

It's the ones who put their hearts into every move.

They were confident, not hesitant. They didn't hold their bodies back for fear of making a mistake--or even if they did make a mistake. They owned the dance. They sold it. They smiled, not the fake grit-teeth smile plastered on, but the smile that says "This is ME dancing. I am enjoying the hell out of this."

Watching someone dance like that, I forget about all the technical stuff. I nod along, and wish I was up there too--because damn, it looks like fun.

That's the kind of writer you want to be too. Confident in your words, your characters, your images, your story. Not writing for other people--that's like the fakey-fake smile. Writing for your ownself, and enjoying the heck out of it. Dropping your whole heart into every line.

And you know what I was thinking last night, as I was clapping another girl who hit the last beat, arms spread wide, grinning like she would do it again, this minute?

Maybe that's one of the secrets to life, too.

The title for this year's show: "Dance Like There's No Tomorrow." Indeed.

Tids & Bits

I'm still on a high from our amazing getaway weekend. WOW. Highlights:

--As a surprise, hubby bumped us up to first class. Picture me at 33,000 feet lounging in a plush chair, my feet dangling above the floor, sipping a gin-and-tonic at 11 AM and completely engrossed in reading about Bones (Jeaniene Frost's yummy hero--and Vic, he is so mine.). Aaaaaaah. Also, the board room at the Seattle airport is a secret haven.

--A full 4-course Thai meal with hubby. I love me some Thom kai gai soup.

--Sipping my first-ever Cosmos (pink!) with hubby in a bar in downtown San Diego, rocking out to bouncy live jazz as people streamed by outside.

--Shoe-shopping. Chocolate shopping, at the Ghirardelli store.

--The concert we actually went for, KT Tunstall, was sooooo fun. I loved it. The front row seats we bought on E-bay Actually Worked!

Unfortunately we did have to get up at 4:15 AM Sunday to catch our plane, but it was worth it.

***********

I finished the aforementioned book, One Foot in the Grave, on the plane rides. Yowza. I recommend Chapter 31. {cough} Well-written, engrossing, and I adore the characters.

***********

I turned in my final project for the multimedia class-from-hell on Friday! Hurrah. Just have to write that ethics paper today...

***********

Edits on GG are going well again, because I gave in and started editing chronologically. Apparently I just am more comfortable that way.

***********

Child has a dress rehearsal this afternoon for her dance recital, with performances tomorrow night and Thursday night. Then in two weeks we have Kindergarten graduation!!!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

***********

Jo has posted some amazingly excellent writing advice, which is not unusual for her. Jo's advice is clear, well-illustrated, and SMART. Listen to her.

***********

That is all for now! I've got a paper to write and some trouble to stir up!

What I'm looking at

Janet Reid asked what you're lookin' at. Since writers also seem to have a fascination with each other's spaces, I thought I'd share a couple of pics today. First, the view out my itty-bitty office window (This building was built in 1896. I have a HUGE office, but apparently they did not believe 3rd-floor people should have big windows in 1896!):

Yes, that's fresh snow on the trees.

But this is what I really look at, all day and when I'm writing:

That's all Child's artwork and pictures of her. I ran out of room a while back, and have started to rotate...but I think I need a ladder so I can go higher too. Looking at this wall, at her artwork and drawings at different ages and "I love you Mommy" notes in WAY different levels of writing...this is what I write for. No, this is what I do everything for.

Finally a taste of spring

This weekend was absolutely glorious: sunny and almost 70 degrees both days, which is when Montana is at its most beautiful. I'm happy to say that we took full advantage of it. In no particular order, we:

• flew a kite
• played on the playground, all of us together (twice). Swings are still fun.
• went for a walk at the creek, and tried to feed the ducks. Where are all the ducks?
  
• went swimming at the hot springs, in the outside pool
• had a roaring game of soccer in our snow-free yard
• set chairs up outside and read together, in the sun (I was reading and marking GG)
• made cookies (okay, that one was indoors)

Unfortunately, I'm back at my desk in my office today, and feeling slightly down. Let-down, maybe? We're supposed to have one more day like this and then another storm/cold front moves in tomorrow.

Here's another of my favorite photos. And nope, that's definitely not Child. In fact, that's one of Child's "boyfriends". :)

Random Friday Thoughts

*****

Child was sneaking reading this morning instead of getting ready. When I checked on her, she was still in her PJs, sitting cross-legged on her rug engrossed in a Pooh book. This meant that breakfast was rushed, she missed half her show, and she didn't have time to dress all the bears for "school" like she usually does.

I was thrilled. She's a reader!! Wahoo!

*****

I haven't written for 3 days, letting Ghost Girl "sit" until I can have enough perspective on it to do revisions. I'm supposed to be relaxing, enjoying myself, filling the well. I'll admit that I don't like it a bit. Instead of feeling free to relax I feel hollow, aimless, and unproductive. Without a story in my head I am without a secret life, my own place to escape to. I am stuck in the harsh glare of reality.

I really must start something. You see it's getting bad. :)

I was going to hold off on starting Melody until I did revisions of Ghost Girl. I'm supposed to be working on my thesis. Hmmm. I'll think of something.

*****

I have at least been doing some reading. As I mentioned, I finished Repossessed. I also finished Shannon Hale's The Princess Academy, which I enjoyed very much. Next up is Blueboarder Elizabeth Bunce's A Curse Dark as Gold. We've also been watching The Tudors (season 2 just started!) and DVDs of Dead Like Me, which I always wanted to watch when it was on but never managed.

*****

I was very surprised by the results of my poll as to what y'all would like as a contest prize. I expected the free books to win hands down. Once you take out the vote I had to make to test the thing, though {cough}, 60% wanted the crit/edit. Wow! I guess maybe I will do that one of these days.

I reserve the right to give away books or signed books too, though. :)

*****

As you can see, my brain is fairly scattered today. What are y'all up to?

Choices

Things are hopping around here.

Last night Bill Clinton was in town, giving a talk at the local high school. Seriously! Not even an April Fool's joke!

I didn't go see him, though, because I had tickets to go with a friend to Little Women: The Broadway Musical. I'll take Jo over Bill, thanks. For the record (Little Women spoilers, if for some reason you've never read it or seen the movie):

--Yes, Beth's death still made me cry, even though I knew it was coming.
--I still hate and despise Amy. (What writer could EVER forgive the manuscript-burning scene?)
--Laurie was SUCH a cutie in this show (dimples!), I wanted to yell at Jo for not marrying him.
--But then Professor Baher was cute too, so it was okay.
--I am such a sucker for (a) musicals and (b) childhood books brought to life and (c) any theater, really, if the acting is good.

In other upcoming events, I'm going to hear Patricia Briggs talk tonight at our university author reception. And this weekend both Hillary AND Obama will be in town stumping. I couldn't get tickets to that--hardly anybody could--but maybe I'll get to see them!

Contentment

It's awfully quiet out there today...both at the office (I think there are 3 of us here) and in blogland. It's Friday, it's the first day of Spring (pauses to look out window at blowing snow), and it's Good Friday.

As a consequence of all this annoying quiet, I'm being very productive. Work is flowing under my fingertips, and I made it over my weekly writing goal, and am sitting at 75%! (and psst! I think it's going to come in at a first draft final count of 55000 instead of 60, so that's 81%! I know, I am SUCH a statistics nerd for an English major.) I am definitely planning to finish this puppy next month.

Pandora's cranked up to the "My alternative" station, I've got a mocha in hand, and I've got fun work to do for the afternoon. Happy moments. Gotta appreciate them when they flash by!

Happy Easter to those who celebrate! We've got a date with a carton of eggs and a PAAS kit...

Busy little beav...uh, bees.

Thanks SO much for a wonderful discussion on Friday. I meant to come back and comment individually on your responses, but instead I just went with the flow and lived my busy weekend Life. {s} This weekend that included: stuffing plastic eggs at Child's school for next week's Egg Hunt (I must've done at least 300), attending the local kid's theater production of The Sound of Music (they did great!), escorting Child to a bowling birthday party, yelling my lungs out at a local pro basketball game, stripping our bathroom and cleaning the walls (!) in prep for painting, and mounds of laundry.

I love weekends, but sometimes weekdays are more relaxing! Though today, being Monday, maybe not....

Must go continue on the layout and editing of a report on water supplies, and finish that chapter on organizational ethics. Oh, and more coffee.

Onward!

Edited to add: I meant to say that I haven't come to a "final" decision either on whether or not posting negative reviews is a good idea. For me personally, I still think positivity might be best. But y'all had some excellent points...

The edge

Weather note: It's 1 degree F outside right now. It's supposed to reach at least 41 today. Gotta love the 40-degree temperature swings. Layers, anyone?

Today I have a question for you. Have you ever come close to dying? What did you experience? If you don't mind, tell me the story.

I'll share first.

I've come close-ish twice, I think. The first time I was a baby--preemie, complications--but that one doesn't count for this purpose. The second time I was about 3, I guess. I was standing at the edge of our backyard pool, on a ledge/seat that was set into the deep end. I had a float ring, in the shape of a horse, around my waist. I remember feeling all adventurous and brave, like I was big enough to do anything. I jumped, with a huge splash, into the deep end.

And the float went right up over my head.

I couldn't swim yet. I watched the float go, watched the diving board get farther and farther away as I sank to the bottom of the pool. It was probably a second. It felt like ages. There was a rush of water as someone jumped in after me. The next memory is of lying on my side as someone pounded on my back, water gushing out of my mouth and nose. I remember looking at our log pile, coughing, the feel of someone's hard hand pounding, over and over.

This memory is strong and clear, down to my emotions. I wasn't afraid at all, just peaceful. Until the water gushing out part. That was nasty.

The weird thing is...I'm not sure how much of this actually happened. My parents say yes, I fell in the pool, but they don't remember any of the pounding/gushing part. And they would, right? That would be imprinted on any parent, relived in nightmares.

The weirder thing is...we moved away when I was 5, and another young family moved in. Not long after that the 3-year-old girl drowned, in that pool.

So I've always wondered, is my memory somehow tangled up with hers? Did that really happen, just not to me? And not with a happy ending?

Your turn. What's your story?

The eyes have it

I had a minor adventure yesterday.

I was sitting at my desk, wrapping things up for the day, when my eye started bothering me. I rubbed the heck out of it like I usually do, thinking it was a stray eyelash or something. I'm not squeamish about my eyes--I wore contacts for years and years, so I just ride with it. But it kept bugging me. It felt like a little mound of sand.

Hubby called, time to go. I shut everything down, still rubbing at my eye, and decided to take a peek in the mirror on my way out the door.

There was a white glob there, right smack in the middle of my pupil. And it wouldn't move. I blinked hard, swiped at it even, but it wouldn't move. It was stuck. Now it started to hurt.

I admit, I panicked a little. What was it? Would it scratch my eye? If I couldn't get it out, was I going to be blinded for life? (Okay, I didn't really think that. But I do have a vivid imagination.) Anyway, I panicked enough that hubby brought me to the eye doctor on the way to get Child.

Good thing, too. I had a piece of hard plaster--or plastic, he couldn't tell--stuck on my eye. The doctor had to numb the eye and remove the little piece, then do some other magic eye-doctor stuff. And it DID scratch it a little, enough that I'm taking antibiotic eye drops just in case, for a few days. And my eye feels weird. I'm blinking a lot. I'm not wearing eye makeup. I've got eye drops next to me, open and ready.

Strange, eh? Because some tiny bit of plaster decided to wander in and get stuck?

Depressing news...

This was in my PW Daily today:

Harcourt San Diego Office to Close

Employees in Harcourt’s San Diego trade division were told Thursday that the office will close June 30. The announcement is the latest step in the integration of the Harcourt and Houghton Mifflin trade operations into the Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Trade & Reference Publishers division. The San Diego office has about 65 employees.

More here from PW.

For those who don't know, I worked as an editor in the San Diego office of Academic Press, then a division of Harcourt, for 8 years. The Harcourt trade people were my colleagues, and many of them my friends. Our division was taken over by Reed Elsevier 5 years ago, and now Harcourt. {SIGH}

argh-a-licious

Argh.

This is my horoscope for today:

Try to adopt a 'keep it to yourself' attitude about controversies today. Play it safe, because it's quite likely that your boss or another authority figure will have different opinions than you do. It's best to just button your lip and bite your tongue -- this person is not interested in starting a debate about what whether you are right or they are right. They need you to just go along with them and not make any waves. And for today, there is absolutely nothing wrong with doing just that.

You know, I'm not a big follower of horoscopes, but sometimes they're spot on. And I really should have read that one BEFORE I made some phone calls this morning. {SIGH}

Excuse me while I pry my foot out of my mouth.

Brown Lessons

Having a kid is all about learning. We start out blank, and have to learn all that stuff about how to change diapers, how to handle tantrums, how to set boundaries, how to play with Polly Pockets for hours on end, yanking tiny little rubber outfits on and off, without screaming.

I've learned lately that for a 5.5-year-old child, boy OR girl, there's nothing as funny as poop.

I did not foresee this, when I imagined having a little girl. ANYthing that mentions poop, or farts, will cue instant giggles. She adds "poop" to any word, any sentence, any conversation, and cracks herself up. Constantly.

Yesterday she whispered in my ear, stopping often to giggle, that "if your poop had rockets in it, it would FLY!" and "if your poop was chocolate, would it come out with wrappers?" She laughed so hard she fell on the carpet.

This is not my usual favorite form of humor, so it's taking a little getting used to. (Her daddy's not having such an adjustment, but that's another story.) But I can join in, when necessary.

Last night at dinner she was telling the usual flood of poop jokes. I shook my head, serious, and said (with a straight face) "Please. That's not a-poop-riate."

I don't think we could eat for 10 minutes, we were all laughing so hard.

2008!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

A little bit late, but yesterday I was too busy playing with dolls, reading books, munching chips-n-guacamole and watching the Twilight Zone marathon to get near the computer.

I was a little surprised by the number of TZ episodes I didn't remember well. I kinda thought with all the years of watching marathons I'd have them memorized. But no! (hmm, or maybe I'm losing my memory. In the TZ frame of mind, that seems more likely)

I was also quite surprised by how similar one of the episodes (Number 12 looks just like you) is to the basic premise of UGLIES by Scott Westerfeld. Enough that I had to dig around to see what he had to say about it...he vaguely remembered it, and thought parts were similar. Goes to prove the adage that there's nothing new under the sun (or in plots), but it's all in how you handle it.

I'm hanging on rather tight to this adage myself, as my current WIP is a ghost story, and there seems to be a flood of them just now. The good thing is I have confidence that nobody's twisting it the same way as me.

Had a rather good idea for the next scene come to me this morning, so I'm raring to go at lunchtime today. Now I just have to figure out this odd "work" thing I'm supposed to be doing until then!

Oh, it was a good one

Usually, Child wakes me up with a gentle tapping on my back. Sometimes it incorporates into my dream, like the alarm buzzer, but she just keeps up the tapping, tap tap tap, until I respond.

Yesterday it was more of a thump thump thump.

"HE CAME!" she said, in a barely restrained whisper. I rolled over immediately, to find two big eyes, right there. "He CAME and you'd never believe it I've never seen so many presents IN MY LIFE!"

She bounced up and down, clutching her teddy bear, beaming.

"Really?" I whispered back, snapping out of grogginess pretty quick. "Did he eat the cookies?"

"YES! I looked, and there were only CRUMBS LEFT! And he drank all the milk except for THIS MUCH!" She scrunched her fingers together in a fist, showing me a teeny gap, and grinned. Bounce, bounce, bounce. "And I've never seen so many presents, and you have to come look, and there's a present on top that's shaped like a TURKEY! Come ON!"

There was no "okay in five minutes" yesterday. There was only a smile between me and hubby, and a quick throwing on of socks and such, and an even quicker push of the coffeemaker button.

And then it was Christmas.

The rest of the day was wonderful, filled with surprises and playing and phone calls and a lovely time with grandma and grandpa. But that...that was my favorite moment. That lasts me all year.

Hope you had a wonderful Christmas.

A moment

On Sunday night all three of us went to a wonderful show, with a pianist and a baritone, Leon Williams.

Wow.

Leon is a powerful singer, with a great stage presence and expression. He managed to connect with the audience and bring us along with him for a wide range of songs, from negro spirituals to Moon River to a kid's song Child has the book for, "Fiddle-I-Fee". His last song was the heady "Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I looked over at this 5-year-old, beautiful, well-spoken, reading Child sitting next to me, watching with eyes wide, feet bouncing on the chair, and I flashed back in an instant to the first concert we ever took her to. She was 3 weeks old, still a red-faced wrinkled tiny person I still didn't have a handle on. Hubby's brother-in-law was singing the lead role in a community production of Man of La Mancha, and they convinced us to bring her. She'll be fine, they said. You need to see this. So we bundled her up and took her along, and as soon as the first notes started, she cried.

You thought I was going to say she loved it all, didn't you? But she bawled. SIL and I high-tailed it out into the hallway, where we could still faintly hear the songs through the walls. We took turns walking and rocking her for the rest of the show. And when "Impossible Dream" started at the end, I looked down at this perfect little new being in my arms, and I thought "There's my impossible dream, right there."

And here we are now, at a place I couldn't even imagine then. She's still perfect (to me), but she's BIG. She's her own individual, marvelous person. And she can sit with us, holding my hand and enjoying the song in her own way.

Life rocks, doesn't it?

Mosaic Hen

I got up over 10,000 words on Ghost Girl, with a burst of "what if this happened". I love those. I almost always follow them, and they rarely let me down. Onward! At least 16,000 by the end of November, maybe more. I'm starting to really enjoy this book. I remember this giddiness when writing Jenna...and it's like drugs. Once you've experienced it, you have to go back for another taste.
(Or so I hear on the drugs. No, Dad, I don't know from personal experience.)

Longer-term goal: I want the rough draft of GG done by March. Revisions slated for April.

Writing hard is the best distraction I can think of for the query process, which is just a weird thing. In spite of myself I jump when an e-mail comes in. I run for the phone to check messages. My superstitious side is surfacing in surprising ways. But I'm also optimistic, and excited.

Good news today, baby!

Lately I've been filled with an overall thankfulness and appreciation for ALL the good stuff in my life. Husband, Child, family, friends, writing, job. I love them all; I revel in them. Opportunities for creativity. The time and space to play around with words and the people who talk in my head. {g} Food. Wine. Chocolate. (Yes, it is food, but it deserves a separate category, I think.) Other people's stories, that involve me and touch me deeply. Gargoyles. Photos. The colorful mosaic hen Child made for me this weekend.

Okay, I think I'm going to share the hen. {s} And wish you all good news for today!