Talking to people who can't hear you

No, not even sign language will help get your point across to characters, whether they be on film, on television, or in a book. The closest I've come to actual communication is dealing with the characters I write. I mean, they sprouted from my own head, you'd think I'd be able to make them listen to what I have to say. More on that in a minute though. First, a funny anecdote or two.

Helper Monkey and I love watching crime shows on TV. His biggest frustration with me (which I'm sure I've blogged about in the past) is Writer Brain Syndrome, in which I've figured out the bad guy and his motive long before the end of the show, and then spend the next 30 minutes mumbling, "Nope, it's not that guy," or, "You're on the right track, now just ask him about..."

In return, he sometimes likes to talk back to the characters, too. This morning, while watching an episode of Bones, he made his usual comments to Temperance. "Oh, please. Stop being so deliberately obtuse." I think he's convinced everyone else on the show has the patience of Job to deal with someone who takes everything literally.

One of our favorite past times (which we're engaging in while I write this post) is heckling the Amazing Race. It's so easy to judge when we're sitting comfortably on the couch with our feet up. But still, it's a great way to feel like a real genius. YOU DING DONG! YOU KEEP MISSING THE OSTRICH! (thanks for pointing it out for the viewers, making it look completely obvious, and accenting their failure by playing the menacing "ZHIIIIIING" sound effect, camera dude!) LOOK TO YOUR RIGHT! Bah.

Lately, I've been catching myself doing these same things while writing, as if the characters I made up inside my brain and continue to create moment by moment as I type weren't actually under my control. I'm now convinced that writers suffer from a mild form of dissociative disorder. There is a cast of thousands inside my head, but they're not aware of each other until I filter them through the keyboard and onto the page. They don't talk to each other, or to me for that matter. Their story unfolds in real time through my fingers, but since they're all coming from a real (imaginary) place inside my head, and I still can't talk to them directly, they let me know what they want as I write. Their personalities grow in ways that often surprise me.

I thought I knew everything about my main character, at least all the important details. I'm writing a prequel to the trilogy of novels I've already written, so I thought I knew her and her history. Well, SURPRISE, MOTHERFATHER! Turns out, she had something major going on with this other guy who was only supposed to be a plot device. Once I started writing him, simply as a way to carry the story forward, I realized he had a lot more going on than I wanted or needed him to.

I intended to make him irrelevant by chapter 3, a footnote in her history. Then I intended to kill him off in chapter 9. Bastard lived. All of a sudden, I can't tell this guy anything anymore. He's damned pushy. But you know what? He's right. And he's perfect for the job. Not only this job, of pushing my MC forward, of shaping her into the character I love from her later life, but he's a fighter. He won't go away, so I've had to work out a deal with him. He knows when he's going to have to bow out of the series, but he's going to enjoy his time in the spotlight.

Do y'all talk to your characters? Or the tv? Please tell me I'm not alone. Well, alone aside from all the imaginary people living in my head.

Getting ahead of myself again.

Oh, dear. I'm always getting ahead of myself.

First, I started writing a second series of novels before I'd finished the first. To be fair, that might not be getting ahead of myself. That's more like realizing I was running in the wrong direction. I turned around, and started a different series. The first series is now lying abandoned in an empty field somewhere. I'll go back and find it someday. Maybe It will be a glorious reunion filled with straining violins and weepy tears of joy. Or maybe it will provide hours of laughter. Either way, I will win.

Second, and more to the point of this post, I keep thinking of things I want to do in real life that tie in to my current WIP. Sure, if I ever find an agent and Thalia and company are published, I'm sure this is the sort of thing I would have to dive in to eventually. Right now, though? Why am I spending time and money on promotional tie-ins NOW? I think it's some sort of brain fever. Marketingitis.

What sort of fun and enticing promotions, you might ask? You might ask, but I'm not telling. Since I haven't actually gone through with any of them yet. I will, though, and then you will be like:



So there. I'm not getting TOO far ahead of myself. Yet.

In other writerly news, I am happily caught up with edits/refreshing my memory on the WIP. I am also making NEW WORDS! :D

Progress-O-Meter:

Words: 56,848
Pages: 177

So, not a LOT of new words yet, but it's been a busy few days around here (hence the dearth of new bloggity).

I am finally getting properly camp trained by the Girl Scouts. I know all this stuff already, but to be all legal and official, I have to go through the course. It was 6 hours of classwork on Sunday, and two days of actual camping in November. *let that sink in* November. Hopefully we'll have a mini-heat-wave that weekend.

Based on the class, I've decided to upgrade some of my old camping equipment. As a result, I went on a camping geek shopping spree the other day. The UPS guy will be delivering Camp Nirvana to my house today. It's kind of sad how excited I am about having a radio/flashlight/cell phone charger that runs on solar AND crank power. *stops and spends five minutes kermit-flailing* See? Sad.

So, what has you all kermit-flaily today? Had a great idea for a WIP? A banner day? Or did you just order some KILLER new camping supplies? Share your joy with me, but just don't get too far ahead of yourselves.

Errands to run, words to make, and coffee to drink.

Writer Kryptonite

I'm definitely a Marvel girl, but I like the Superman imagery for this post's title. The events I'm about to relate nearly reduced me to a quivering puddle of goo. I swear, I'm not cheating on you my dear X-men and Avengers. No need to come after me with your combined crazy weapons. I swear you're the main focus of this post. *nervous laughter and twitching*

Okay, I don't really take that above paragraph seriously, but I had a strange episode yesterday. It was strange enough, and entertaining enough, for me to put it in writing. You'll see the Marvel connection momentito.

It all started off with a common enough experience: the phone rang. That's not strange all by itself, but I glanced at the caller ID before I answered. It only said "NEW YORK." And my knees turned to jelly.

*Sigh* More backstory: I'm querying right now. I have several manuscripts out to agents. Most of those agents are located in New York. I'm already a little twitchy when the phone rings or the email notice chimes, but seeing the caller is from New York, and it's not my mom or a friend or something, is just about enough to start my eyeballs doing somersaults.

So I shushed the kid, who was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework, and braced myself for anything. I answered the phone. The next 30 seconds went something like this:

ME: Hello?

PHONE: mrrflamlmmmm

ME: Um. Hello?

PHONE: SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE* clickity-clickity-click THUNK
     *This was an ear-bleed of a high pitched noise

ME: (after recovering from the ear-bleed) Hello? HELLO?!

Then I hung up. My first thought was, "Oh, great, I just lost any chance I will EVER have of publishing/finding an agent because I just yelled at someone on the phone. They probably think I'm the nutter and there was nothing wrong with the call on their end."

Then I realized I could check and see who actually called. Google to the rescue.

I entered the number from the caller ID, and it looked at little strange. I learned something else fun about the internet, too. The number who called me was registered to Trask Industries, and even Google Maps is in on the joke.

For those not familiar with the Marvel Universe, Trask Industries is explained HERE.

So maybe it wasn't a literary agent calling to beg me to be their client, but after the simultaneous heartbreak and confusion faded, at least I was left with the notion that somewhere out there, maybe Wolverine or Iron Man will have to come to my rescue some day. If Trask is a real thing, then maybe they are too. We can hope.

With that bit of nonsense, it's time to go back to my own imaginary version of New York City, setting of the novel I'm working on at the moment.

Unicorn Pillow I made when I was 10. I sit on it while I write now. FTW.

 I can't resist. Apologies.ERMAHGERD! ERNERCERN PERLO!

NEWSLY NOTES: And for a few fun updates on things I'm participating in within the Series of Tubes:

I am working up several new contest entries this month, some of which are already in the preliminary phases. There is the Hook, Line, and Sinker contest being run through THREE fabulous blogs. Already my preliminary pitch is up over at Kat Ellis's blog for critique.

Then there's Trick or Treat with an Agent! This one is particularly fun because of the two questions entrants are asked to answer. Even if you're not entering the contest, if you are a writer you should give those questions a gander! Fun stuff!

And I can't forget the Pitch Live! Video pitch contest. This one just about killed me. I spent five hours making a video pitch, and I still hate it. *grumbles* I'm about to throw in the towel and just do a costumed chorus line routine, and possibly sing my pitch. At least then the agents who view it will have something memorable and likely a good laugh (or possibly an aneurism. Maybe I should rethink that...) I'm working up the nerve to post the video on this blog.

Also upcoming: The Authoress Baker's Dozen, with FIFTEEN agents participating! My logline is also there for preliminary critique, at #15. Kinda auspicious, right? Fifteen agents, I'm number fifteen...okay, I'll take what I can get. This one is a HUGE, MUST-NOT-MISS EVENT for the unagented among us.

There are probably others, which I'll post as I remember them. In the mean time, here's my sad Progress-o-Meter update:

Words: 55,678
Pages: 173
Edit Page: 139

Just for Fun: Query Wordle!

Thanks to the awesome Ink in the Book, I've been enamored with creating a Query Wordle. Without further ado - since I've already wasted at least an hour creating and tweaking it - I'd like to present the newest version of my query for Running Down the Dragon in Wordle form:

Brain, 1; Forgetting the name of that song, 0

A few weeks ago, the Helper Monkey was watching something on tv. I was happily sitting in my comfy chair writing, or editing, or reading. Whatever. What I was doing doesn't really matter. The point is, I heard a song I recognized. It was a bit of classical music that I knew I'd played at some point in my life, and for the life of me I couldn't remember what it was called. I blanked.

I SHOULD have known what it was. I mean, I could PLAY it for you, but I couldn't NAME it. At least I was sure it was composed by Bach. The arrangement used in the background of the tv show was a string quintet (two violins, viola, cello, and guitar). I was pretty damn sure I did not play that particular arrangement (since I've never played with a classical guitarist), but other than that, I could not place the music.

I put my computer down, stomped over to the sofa, and hit the record button on the remote. Now at least I'd be able to listen to the song on constant repeat until I remembered what it was.

Fast forward a few weeks. Between summer camps, editing, and catching up on everything else, I'd completely forgotten about the song. Last night I was clearing off the TiVo (read: watching a lot of tv). At the bottom of the list of recorded shows was the show with That Song. I watched it again. I listed REALLY CAREFULLY. And then I dove head-first into google searches.

Long story short: I FOUND THE DAMNED SONG!

And I'm humiliated to admit the title now. It's only one of Bach's most famous snippets of music. And I played it when I was in high school. The Third Brandenburg Concerto's final movement.




Victory is MINE!

In other news:  Lulu comes home from Girls Rock camp today. I'm leaving for the airport in just a bit. I can't wait to see her! We've only got two full days at home before we're off again, but I'll be glad enough for two days of normality before we go.

You'd think I'd be glad to have a quiet house for a week, but no. Every year when she goes, I fall under the delusion that I'll get so much done while she's away. I'll clean out the closets in the guest room! I'll reorganize the garage! I'll write fifty thousand words in a week! I WILL DO ALL THE THINGS!

What do I get done every year? A lot of moping. To be fair, I worked at five baseball games this week, so that took up a lot of my free time. Then I got sick. Then it was Helper Monkey's day off, and we had a nice morning out together. Then I spent most of last night on the insane musical quest, and watching lots of tv. At least the TiVo's empty now. One thing accomplished.

 And now, TO THE AIRPORT! Wheeee!

Writing is Evolution, or why chapter one stopped working

When I started writing the first book in this series, way back at the end of last summer, I knew who the characters were, and I had a general idea of the conflict that should arise and how it would be resolved. That was it. It was, admittedly, very little to base a novel on, let alone a series of books.

I wrote, revised, edited, and then wrote some more. Fast forward about eight months. I'm half way through writing the first draft of the third book in this series. All the while I've been adding things and taking away things from book the first. At this point, I'm happier with the second book in the series than the first, because it's been incubating on the hard drive for a while, while I've been playing with book one again. Book three is sitting idle, waiting for me to resume the car chase scene I abandoned it in.

Why would I abandon a perfectly good car chase? Because I found out that book one was more of a car accident. Thanks to the insightful and delightful editorial input of one @FeakySnucker, every confusing thing is being excised or rewritten. And I'm grateful.

The process of writing seems to breed inconsistency. The more I wrote, the more alive my characters became in my head, the more I went back and changed things. Turns out, a lot of those changes created strange loops, redundancy, and a host of other problems. The biggest problem? The story changed or grew in my head without any of that information landing on the page. Not exactly convenient for the reader, eh?

Since I don't write specifically for the mind-readers of the world, it's fantastic to have someone point out the confusing bits. I know the story so well now that I'm incapable of seeing the deficiency. My brain fills in the gaps with the information it knows should be there.

When I was in seventh grade, my English teacher was explaining the importance of punctuation. He asked for a volunteer to stand up and read a paragraph out loud. I'm a dork, so I volunteered. The sample had no punctuation marks. The teacher, who obviously didn't know me very well yet, expected me to read it as one long breathless blob of words. My brain wouldn't allow that. I read it like it SHOULD have been written, inserting my own pauses where they clearly should have been. The teacher was flustered, and asked me to sit down, complaining that I was clearly too good a reader for that particular exercise.

But that's what my brain tends to do. When there's a mistake, I fix it automatically and move on. Just like with the little blobby writing sample, if I KNOW something should be in there, I fill in the gap and keep going. It might be selective blindness, or maybe I just have some sort of mental spackle that smooths all the rough bits and plot holes out.

And that, my friends, is why a good editor or crit partner is worth their weight in helium. (Comment context for the science-impaired: since helium is lighter than air, amassing enough to equal a human's weight is impossible, thus rendering their value as infinitely increasing.)

So all that setup (Look Ma! Backstory!) goes to prove a single point. I had to essentially rewrite the first chapter of the first book in the series last night. I was up until 3 in the morning, but I murdered half a dozen darlings, and wrote three new paragraphs that set the stage so much better. They explain the essential conflict of the story. I'd assumed all along that everyone would understand the MC's problem immediately, but then it was pointed out to me that I never really explained it at all! Crap! So now it's in there.

I'm going back to reread from the beginning, and hopefully I'll tweak and clarify a bit more before the mental spackle starts spreading over it again.

Just for fun, now: Things overheard in my house in the last 24 hours:

Me, being a bad influence: Lulu, you want to have cake for lunch?
Lulu: No, I think I want a proper lunch before cake.
Me: O_o
Lulu, 5 minutes later after rummaging through the fridge: Okay, I'll have some cake.

Helper Monkey, on leaving for work after a week of vacation: Good night, see you in the morning.
Me: Don't work too hard!
40 minutes later, the phone rings, and I panic. Phones ringing at midnight aren't usually a good thing.
HM: Guess what?
Me, panicky: What? Please tell me you're okay?
HM: Fine. I'm not scheduled to come back until tomorrow night. I'll be home in half an hour.
Me: Crap. Ten bucks in gas down the toilet...and the last night of your vacation wasted.

Oh, and I went swimming for the first time this summer. I've taken Lulu to the pool several times, but this was the first time I went in. It was so crowded, you needed a shoehorn to get in. Even the lap lane was populated with people teaching their toddlers how to doggie paddle. I managed to get about two dozen laps in, nonetheless, by swimming under, around, and through clusters of sunburned teenagers and kids in floaties. It was better than nothing. Hopefully we'll get to go back this week at a less crowded time. Usually after dark is the time to go. All the moms who sit in the lounge chairs baking themselves are gone, and the few kids tend to stick to the shallow end and let the old fogies have the lap lane.

With that cheerful thought, GET OFF MY LAWN! I'm going back to work. Thanks for tolerating me yet again.

The Long and Winding Road, or how my 11-year-old knows more Beatles songs than I do

The Helper Monkey found this cool graphic online this morning.

by Viktor Hurtz

And yes, it's worth blowing up to gigantic proportions like this. Each image is the title of a Beatles song. How many can you guess?

Well, today I learned that my kid can guess more of them than I can. She's 11. Which makes me proud, and a little sad. I stink with names/titles/etc. I can sing the tune that goes with most of the images, but getting the title right escapes me sometimes. But I knew Lulu would be a champ at this. She's in her room right now, in fact, listening to the Beatles. They're her favorite band of all time. Well, them and U2. I will accept your congratulations on this fact right now. No Justin Bieber in this house! :)

After five minutes on research into this image, though, I discovered the artist is running a Funded by Me campaign to get his posters printed. If you have $30 to spare and a love of good music, please check them out. They are amazing! He has different bands to pick from, everything from Elvis to Iggy Pop. He's only raised $610 of his $3500 goal, so go check it out. If I didn't already blow this month's budget by fixing Helper Monkey's Jeep, and blow next month's budget shopping for a new TV, I'd sign up for one of these in a hot second. (also, Lulu's birthday is next month, so for friends and family scratching their heads, this might be a great gift idea, wink wink nudge nudge. Oh, she also wants a Fez, because "Fezzes are cool," according to Doctor Who.)

Gaithersburg Book Festival Fun

Lulu and I trekked down to Monkey County today to visit the Gaithersburg (Maryland) Book Festival. It was a great way to escape the traffic of Frederick County during the G8. Well, except for the fact that Frederick G8 traffic is STILL lighter than Gaithersburg on a random Saturday afternoon traffic.

It was well worth it, though. Crab cakes for lunch! Meeting Authors! New books! A trip to the "big mall!" Well, that last bit was Lulu's favorite part, anyway. She got several new outfits for summer, since she's somehow become too tall for all her shorts over the winter. I thought winter was supposed to be the dormant season where the kids stop growing for a few months. I guess that only applies to lawns.

We ended up leaving before we had a chance to meet Jenny Lawson, a.k.a. The Bloggess. I did manage to pay full price for her book, Let's Pretend This Never Happened. So I suppose that sort-of makes up for missing her. Lulu couldn't stand melting in the heat any longer. Apparently the crab cake bribe had expired, so further bribery was needed to keep her happy. To that end, we got Godiva chocolates at the mall. I endured, somehow.

The main author I went to meet was Steve Ulfelder, though. He writes the fabulous (Edgar Nominated!) Conway Sax mystery series, beginning with Purgatory Chasm, and the newly-released The Whole Lie, which I must get ASAP! On top of that, he's a really nice guy, and it was interesting learning how Conway evolved into the character he is today.

On the way home, driving up I-270, we saw something eminently cool. A convoy of three Chinook helicopters headed straight toward Camp David. Always a neat thing. I had Lulu try to take a picture, but the trees kept getting in the way, and the helicopters were going a lot faster than traffic. This was the best she could do:

Yeah. Not great. I swear they're there somewhere.

This is what they looked like:

Since I don't have a picture of the actual helicopters, for anyone who cares, this flew over my house about 20 minutes ago.

The MetLife blimp, which is superior to world leaders in Chinooks, because it has Snoopy on it.

I'd like to see any of the world superpowers at the G8 try to compete with Snoopy on a blimp. Blimp wins every time.

Sad thing with this blog, I had a FABULOUS idea for this post this morning before I left for the book festival. I had this really catchy title, and a humorous couple of paragraphs about something that I thought was hysterically funny. Can I remember any of it now? Of course not!

Nor did I remember to hand out my fancy-schmancy new business cards to a single person I met today. My brain is going soft. In my defense, it was 88 degrees outside today, and I'm a little fried.

Finally, by the time we got back to the familiar roads of rural Frederick, Lulu and I were completely slap happy. This always makes for a fun drive. We like to play the Alphabet Game, where you have to find the letters of the alphabet in order on signs, other cars, etc. When we reach a letter that's hard to find, we start changing the words we see to incorporate the needed letter. Worthington becomes Jorthington, Taco Bell becomes Taco Jell. It gets completely nonsensical after a while, and usually devolves into discussions of our least favorite words (currently tops of Lulu's list: muffin top and jeggings, as well as Mantyhose. Yes, that is a real thing, unfortunately.) We start inventing bizarre stories involving all the reviled words, and end up laughing so hard I can barely see to drive.

All in all, this was a great day. I didn't write a lick, and I have no intention of starting now. I'm going to unwind with my new books from the festival, and relive the story of the woman with the muffin top having a convo about her vacay, while wearing her jeggings. She bought some mantyhose, decided to change into blousy trousers, and insisted they be called pantaloons, instead.

And with that, I can't focus on this nonsense anymore. It's been a tiring day.

This is why I lost on Jeopardy!

I stink at pushing the button. It's my major downfall in life. It's why I only managed a single win on Jeopardy! The Stinking Button. (For anyone who doesn't know about the whole Jeopardy! thing, you can read about it here and here.) (And yes, when referring to the game show, if you leave of the exclamation mark, you've spelled it wrong.)

Despite the obvious nerd credit involved with just being on a show like Jeopardy!, I obviously lack some basic nerd skills. I'm not great at video games, because I have a slow trigger finger. I never mastered the darned buzzer button, and I only won a single game because I lucked into a couple of Daily Doubles and wagered big. As soon as I had to face another contestant with a faster thumb than mine, I lost.

Don't get me wrong, I type quite well. I used to be a medical transcriptionist, and you have to type fast to scrape a living doing that. Obviously I lack any other button-pressing skills. I've managed to get quick enough on the Wii to beat an 11-year-old at Mario Kart, but I don't think that skill translates 1:1 into button pushing.

To wit: I failed TWICE to make it into The Writer's Voice multi-blog writing contest. And they even added an extra 25 slots to the second round of entries!

REPRIEVE!!! The four blog owners who are running the contest graciously opened up a third entry window, with only 25 additional slots, today at noon. Maybe the third time's the charm? I can only hope so. My internet connection has been wonky lately, with extra-slow loading capabilities. It's been a nostalgic few days here, hearkening back to my old dial-up connection. I've got to call Verizon and figure out what the problem is.

So I've got one last chance. Let's hope I'm a little quicker on the draw today. Since I don't have the ridiculous schedule I had to battle yesterday (where I was only home for an hour, and running around like an idiot for at least 14 other hours), maybe I can go all zen and miraculously come in under the wire this time. Here's hoping!*

And May the 4th be with you today, this fine Star Wars day.

With the crazy schedule this week, I haven't been writing much, but I feel the need for an update here, if only for my own records:

Words: 39,064
Pages: 130

* And no, I failed again. I kept hitting the refresh button waiting for the widget to appear, when all I needed to do was scroll down to the bottom of the post. I came in at post #206, and they capped the entries at 200. Once again, how the hell did I ever managed to qualify for Jeopardy! in the first place?

**And edited to include this photographic evidence:

Me, as a blonde, and the Trebekster

Fun with Sock Puppets

I just got the kid from school, and she's started a new project in her Life Skills class (think home ec.). They are using their new-found sewing skills to make sock puppets. I love this.

Today they had to sketch out their designs. She brought it home for me to see. I love my kid. This is what she designed for her sock puppet:

It's Doctor Who!

Yes, she's making a Doctor Who sock puppet, complete with bow tie and Fez. And even a wibbly wobbly timey wimey thrown in for good measure.

Her second choice design is a little more disturbing:

Creepy weeping angel.

If you've never seen the "Blink" episode of Doctor Who (or any of the subsequent episodes featuring these monsters), this might seem cute. Trust me, it's one of the least cute things I have ever seen. *brrrrr*

I'm glad she went with the Doctor.

So this is what we're teaching her.

Writing has been going sort of well. I managed to make new words, and get the bills paid, and balanced the checkbook, and dealt with idiot people on the phone. If I've spoken with you on the phone in the last few days, please know that you, personally, were absolutely NOT one of the idiot people. That was someone else. You were absolutely delightful (unless you're with Verizon or Citibank. Then, you stink.)

Chorus tonight, which means two hours of semi-uninterrupted writing time. Huzzah!

Since the last update:

Words: 20,512
Pages: 67

It's Friday, It's Friday!

This is what I sing every Friday morning while I'm driving Lulu to the bus stop. She and her friend (our neighbor who I often also drive to the bus stop), have come to expect and ignore this. But this Friday is even better. It's spring break all next week, so I only have to wake up to an alarm once in ten days! Next Thursday we're taking a little day trip to D.C. for the cherry blossom festival, even though most of the flowers are gone...it's still fun to go on a field trip. That necessitates an alarm being set, since we have to be out of the house by about 6:30 in order to catch the train. Still, it'll be fun.

I also caved in and bought a lottery ticket for the half-BILLION dollar drawing tonight. I never buy lottery tickets. I have a better chance of getting a million-dollar publishing contract by sunset tonight than I do of winning the lottery. And if you know anything about where I am in my writing "career", you know how unlikely that is. Still, when you can start referring to the jackpot in relation to a BILLION dollars, it's too tempting.

My mom lives in one of the eight states where they don't have the Mega Millions game, so we bought her some tickets, too. I still think it's odd, how someone thinks they significantly improve their odds by buying 20 tickets instead of five. (confession: we bought a total of ten, five for us and five for my mom). When the initial odds are 1:176,000,000, you don't really improve your odds by buying a few more numbers. Some guy on the radio thought his odds would improve if he bought his tickets at different stores. He's actually driven to Virginia, DC, and Maryland just to buy some tickets in each! Yikes! Can you say: No concept of random odds? And with gas prices the way they are, I'm not going multi-state for my lottery needs.

So I've bought into the 24-hour-dream, that maybe I'll win. I've got about 12 more hours to imagine all the things I'd do with the money before I have to give up on it, but I'm determined to enjoy every minute with my imaginary half a billion.

What I'd Do with half a billion dollars:

• Pay off everything I owe money on (well, duh! gotta start practical before you go nuts)
• Get the Helper Monkey a new car. He's driving a 98 Jeep Grand Cherokee with 215k miles on it
• I like my neighborhood, so I wouldn't want to move, but I'd love to remodel, starting with my kitchen and bathroom. Maybe someday I'd add on a master bedroom suite.
• I'd pay off my mom's house
• I'd get the kid a new computer.
• I'd pay for someone else to clean my house
• I'd travel. Tim wants to see Europe, Lulu wants to go to Paris, and I want to see the Far East, as well as Russia.
• I'd get some new Fluevogs
• I'd buy a bunch of fancy clothes that I'd never even considered buying before. If you're that rich, no one questions your eccentricities. If I want to play putt-putt golf wearing an 1865 evening dress, than so be it.
• I'd pay someone to do my finances for me. I hate balancing my checkbook, and with half a billion clogging up my accounts, I'd never want to handle it on my own.

I think that's enough to take care of the 12 hours of daydreaming I have left today. Now hopefully all that daydreaming won't get in the way of the actual work I need to do, because obviously I'm not going to actually win the jackpot.

The Battle Against Boredom

It's the end of the Cookie Season for Girl Scouts around here, but our troop still has about 300 boxes to sell. This is the last weekend we're allowed to sell at grocery stores and the like, so we're out there in force in the hopes we won't get stuck with cases and cases of cookies. If we do, we'll obviously have to eat them, and that would be really bad...

So Lulu and I held a sale outside a cute little store near our house, but despite the gorgeous weather, foot traffic was sporadic, at best. To keep ourselves from getting too grumpy about it, we decided to play Camera Tag. This is a fun game, where one person dances and dodges around, while the other person tries to capture them in a photograph. We had mixed results, but we actually got a few good pictures.

I caught Lulu unblurred, and actually smiling!

Blurry, but at least I'm mostly in the shot.

We were also getting a little silly with self-portraits, and I'm debating whether or not to use one of these as my new profile pic.

You can almost see down my shirt in this one...Maybe not this one then...

The other strange thing I learned from Picture Tag was that spring is definitely back. During winter, I can keep my hair from frizzing out, and almost make it look wavy with enough conditioner and attention. This is why I hate the summer months, though. The only thing I'll be able to do with my hair for the next 6 months is this:

Oh, curly hair! You just do whatever the heck you want, don't you?

At least I won't have itchy shins at the same time. Humidity= Crazy Hair - dry skin. See, it's a math problem! I guess I can deal with it.

I was supposed to be working this morning, but I slept late. Now I have to head out to learn how to run a ballpark concession stand. I'll be back for dinner, but then my MS is going DOWN! *does the little "I see you" gesture at the unruly MS*.

My schizoid personal style

Since I'm not writing anything new at the moment, and reading a blog about the tediousness and momentary bursts of excitement of the editing process every day would make me want to claw my eyes out, I figured I'd write something a little different. So here's something a little more personal: my Sense (or lack thereof) of Style.

This won't be about how I decorate my house, which is basically Ikea with clutter. For example, the legal pad with my notes for the third novel in this series has been sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, balanced on a marker, for five days. No one's touched it. This is sad.

My housekeeping is so bad, this hasn't moved in five days, despite being in the freaking center of the living room floor.

No, this will be about how I decorate myself. When I'm at home, or even if I only have to run to a friend's house or drive the kid to school, 99 times out of 100, I'm wearing pajamas (Sock Monkeys!), ratty t-shirts (today it's from a 1996 Metallica concert), my bathrobe, or a hoodie (Lets go Caps!). Oh, and slippers. I have maybe ten pairs of slippers, and I wear them all during the winter. It's almost the end of slipper season, though, and that makes me kind of sad. Slippers are cozy.

If I'm running errands, I have one of two looks to choose from. I either look like someone who's escaped from the military and discovered the art of sloppy dressing, or I look like Mary Poppins. Definitely polar opposite looks.

Let's start with prim and proper, though, shall we? I love Victorian Goth and Steampunk clothing. I adore long, ruffly skirts, corsets, parasols, and funky little hats. My daughter's friends call me the "Goth Mom" and they eagerly await my next outfit and tiny hat. Granted, this look takes a bit more work to achieve, given the corsetry, makeup, hair, and overall presentation. And it's incredibly impractical during the summer months. Thus, my other look.

I have a bizarre compulsion to shop at Army/Navy stores. I wear a lot of black/olive drab/camouflage. It suits the main character of the series I'm writing, so maybe I've taken on a little of her personality? She's a soldier, so maybe I've become a little more like her? Or maybe she just brought out those parts of my personality? I love stompy army boots, and the comfortable fabrics and cuts of military clothing. BDU's were designed to be rugged, breathable, and flexible. Beats the hell out of skinny jeans.

These two looks seems to fit the two halves of my personality, too. I love to be a proper lady, to show good manners. The whole Victorian thing takes care of that. But I also love hiking, kayaking, and all outdoorsy-type activities. I teach girl scouts how to navigate in the woods with a compass, how to pitch tents, and how to build fires. The whole pseudo-military look takes care of that.

My favorite thing about my split-personality sense of style is going to a store where I'm a regular customer, and seeing the surprised looks on the employees faces as they recognize me in my other identity. I'm convinced a few of them think I'm actually a set of twins.

Either way, I'd never be able to settle on a single personal style. Frankly, I don't care. I just know that whatever mood I'm in every day, I'll be able to dress the part. Lately, though, I've been more military than Victorian. Thank you, Thalia (my main character), for bringing that to the forefront. I was a little sick of doing the makeup thing every morning.

One last thing: HAPPY VERNAL EQUINOX!!! I just realized I almost missed my plum tree in bloom. All the blossoms are crazy early this year, and I did miss the peak bloom, but here's a pretty picture, nonetheless.

Strange things, and Happy Pi Day!

I've seen some strange things in the last few days.

First of all is the obvious time change weirdness. I'm used to doing things in the dark in the evenings, and watching the sun set while I drive Lulu to her evening activities. I kind of miss that, since it's still daylight when we head out for that stuff now. Then again, I'm not compelled to pull over and take pictures of the sunset all the time while we're driving, for which the kid is grateful.

Yesterday it was nearly 80 degrees outside. Right now it's in the mid-70's, we have the windows open, and I'm enjoying the tweeting birdies. Since it's not technically spring yet, this is somehow fundamentally wrong. I walked around town last night in the sunlight, wearing flip-flops and a short skirt. The trees are still winter-naked, but it feels like freaking June. I'm a little concerned what this will mean for us in August. I have a feeling we're going to boil this summer. I'm enjoying the energy savings of not having to run the heater all through March, but I'm worried we're gonna pay double come summer.Considering last summer the capacitor in my A/C gave out, I'm worried we're going to blow the new one out this summer. Ugh.

I suppose I should stop griping and enjoy the nice weather while I can. I don't need to pay tomorrow's bills today.

Another weird thing, I saw this:

Creepy

 And then I remembered the beauty school around the corner. I figure Ms. Head is on her way to class.

I almost forgot about Pi Day! Happy Pi Day. I had to run out last night and buy a pie, since I can't stand baking when it's this hot out. We selected a lovely cherry pie for dessert tonight. The kid's math teacher is also giving out an extra credit point to every kid who brings in snacks for the class today, so we got Oatmeal Cream Pies for her to take. Doubly good as a math class snack on Pi Day. They're also throwing pies at their English teacher at lunch time today.

Anyway, I've been taking a breather from editing for a bit. Since I finished the r&r on the first novel, I've only sent it to a few agents. I wanted to see what the response is before I send it out widely. We're back to nail-biting, wait and see, and the emotional roller coaster. It's all good. I hate to admit it, but I kind of enjoy that bit (said the freaky crazy lady).

I've started r&r on the second novel, to bring it in line with the changes I made in the first. It has to be done, and once again, I think I actually enjoy doing it. Bizarro-land, I am in you.

Editing and revision was my least favorite part about writing things in school. Sadly, I think it's now become my favorite. I start with the bare-minimum needed to call it a story, and then flesh it out and sculpt it into a readable (and hopefully enjoyable) piece of writing. Now that's fun!

Okay. Back to the fun.

One more time

Since Tim was out of it sick all weekend, I actually got a lot of work done. The threat of snow all day kept me inside, so we never got any cookies delivered, but I also got through 100 pages of reading. At least I'm ahead of the game on that front. Today, hopefully, we will get some of these cookies out of the house. Before I eat them all.

This current edit has been encouraging. I'm not finding major things to fix this go-around, just silly things. Things like:

-I typed the word "the" but meant "them"

-Verb tenses don't agree within a sentence.

-I use the same word or phrase twice in a paragraph, when another perfectly lovely word or phrase would make it better, or at least less clunky.

Reading for style and polish is always easier than reading for major plot structure. I don't have to keep stopping to skip backward or forward through the book to fix plot problems, so I can spend most of my time reading straight through and looking for awkward phrasing, misspelled nonsense, and general style. I can take a blah sentence and punch it up to reflect the characters' personalities or emotions more accurately.

A few more days of punching at this MS, and I'm going to turn it over to beta Tim. Then I have to sit on pins and needles while he reads through it. I'd rather write and edit any day than wait to hear what he thinks. At least I know he'll be nice about it.

Last night, I kind of got distracted when I realized Return of the King was on TV. Even with commercial breaks, I couldn't stop watching it. What really bugged me, though, was how they edited it. Ugh. They left out some of my favorite parts! How dare they leave out "The Mouth of Sauron?" That's a major turning point in the story. He comes out and shows the Fellowship Frodo's mithril coat and Sam's barrow sword, and the bad guys think they're taunting Frodo's friends with his supposed death. Pippin reacts, and Gandalf silences him. He knows that they didn't actually have Frodo, since Sauron would have reclaimed his ring by then if they did. Gandalf knows it's a sign that they could still have a chance of victory. How the hell could they cut that scene out? Plus, hello, Mouth of Sauron here! You just want to punch that guy right in his ugly teeth. So that's my big complaint with yesterday. I think I'm going to have to watch the uncut version of LOTR today to soothe myself, and get out my "in your face, Mouth of Sauron" vindictive joy.

Punch me in the face, please!

Okay, say it all together now. I'm a nerd. I know it. I accept it. It's a good thing.

So, on to the summary:

Words: 98,213
Pages: 314
(and those are unlikely to change much at this point)
Edit Read-through Page: 97

I can't really call it an edit anymore. It's more of a read-through. I'm just about ready to get through this now. I've already got an idea how the next book will start, and I'd rather be writing that at this point.