I say this, maybe one day, for many different reasons.
Let's see maybe one day I'll be able to get this butt injury healed and workout again. Oh sure I can work my upper body, but as I lay in bed last night pondering over what this day would bring, I remembered how my days (obsessively) revolved around exercising. I thought, I'll get up and work my upper body like crazy, then this very vivid, very scary image entered my mind. The dog, can't remember his name, you know the cartoon character one. The one always chained to the dog house, usually sleeping until Jerry (Tom's friend/enemy) ran past him. Remember him? Well he was all upper body and nothing at the bottom. I pictured myself as HIM and it was not a pretty picture. Although, with this Boom, Boom, Pow I got going on in the lower half, I know I would never resemble that Bulldog or whatever he is, I decided not to focus on just my upper body. Let it go Wendy, just let it go for now.
Can't do cardio either. So what the H, E, double toothpick am I supposed to do. Can't work. Can't paint the house like I really need to and have on my very long to-do list. Can't keep cooking like I have been because just last night I made, oh so good smelling, strawberry cupcakes. I felt like a psych patient, wringing my hands trying to keep my hands, mouth and every other body part off of them. You know how crazy you can get when you have cravings, by the way. Anyway, I would icing one, then walk away. Icing another, then walk away. At least I got two dozen worth of walking away in for exercise. Still not enough. Patience, I know. I KNOW. But I don't have much. Lord help me.
Calmed myself eventually, and found a small fragment of patience yesterday. Decided to pull out my old manuscript of a novel I wrote five years ago. You know, thinking I'd get myself back into something I really enjoyed. Something I would do that would not require further injury to my butt. However....and you knew there would be a however, as I started reading it, I got so into the story that I couldn't work on revisions. The whole D, A, M as in Mary, N as in Nancy reason I walked away from that so many years ago!
So now what am I supposed to do. Because I just don't know!
All I know is that I have way too much time on my hands and I need to find some frigg... How the heck is that spelled anyway, or pronounced for that matter. So many different versions of it, frickin', friggin' (which I suppose is the less offensive version), freakin' or what. I don't know, so that one I won't use.
So what have I realized today? Well, I'll tell ya.
One day I will die, most likely with the same size Boom Boom Pow, Be donk e donk, little-in-the-middle-but-she's-got-much-back, as I have now, no matter how hard I work at it. And long after I'm dead and buried my great grandkids, one of whom will be an editor at Harper Collins or some big house like that, will find my manuscript, edit it, and I'll be the next big DEAD thing.
What a dream...
As Always, thanks for stopping by.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Back to blogging, I suppose.
I hopped on over to this blog to find that I haven't posted here in almost 4 years. Don't ask why, but since the secret will eventually spill I'll tell you. I was held hostage by bears in the caves of a long lost place, where I ate raw fish with yucky scales and had my long green hair brushed by bear claws daily. By the way, thinking of franchising the concept, although dangerous. I rode on the backs of whales to get to and fro while waiting for life to come snatch me back. Anyway, I'm a liar and here is the real reason. Or so, I don't have any REAL reason, so never mind.
So, a little over a week ago I hurt my butt ice skating. Not really my butt but more of an avulsion of my ishial tuberosity (which surely no one really cares to know). I know, I know. Did God not warn me about what I should and shouldn't do over the age of 40. Anyway, back in the day I was an awesome roller skater so I figured how hard would it be? Besides, my 7-year-old wanted to try. I was actually pretty amazing at it. Well, not really, but I did well. We were skating along, wind whipping past us as those hockey playing wanna be's flew by. Then those God awful teeth on the front of the blade grabbed the ice thrusting my leg into the air in an attempt prevent an ugly fall. Didn't work so well, because of course I fell, ever so gracefully I might add. Thing is, I felt something 'go pop' just before my P90X tended to gluteus maximus met with the ice. Needless to say I'm restricted from exercise at this time and have decided to get back to writing.
Believe me this is not the only reason for rediscovering my need to indulge in my lifelong dream, I really love and miss it. Don't know why I let going back to collage, getting a new career and raising my kids get in the way, because I know that writers with a TRUE passion refuse to let anything get in their way.
Now, I will do my best to try and find those magic fingers that allow those long awaited words to bleed out onto the keyboard and seep into the minds of others', or at least out of the mind of my own.
Have a nice day and please be careful of the ice.
So, a little over a week ago I hurt my butt ice skating. Not really my butt but more of an avulsion of my ishial tuberosity (which surely no one really cares to know). I know, I know. Did God not warn me about what I should and shouldn't do over the age of 40. Anyway, back in the day I was an awesome roller skater so I figured how hard would it be? Besides, my 7-year-old wanted to try. I was actually pretty amazing at it. Well, not really, but I did well. We were skating along, wind whipping past us as those hockey playing wanna be's flew by. Then those God awful teeth on the front of the blade grabbed the ice thrusting my leg into the air in an attempt prevent an ugly fall. Didn't work so well, because of course I fell, ever so gracefully I might add. Thing is, I felt something 'go pop' just before my P90X tended to gluteus maximus met with the ice. Needless to say I'm restricted from exercise at this time and have decided to get back to writing.
Believe me this is not the only reason for rediscovering my need to indulge in my lifelong dream, I really love and miss it. Don't know why I let going back to collage, getting a new career and raising my kids get in the way, because I know that writers with a TRUE passion refuse to let anything get in their way.
Now, I will do my best to try and find those magic fingers that allow those long awaited words to bleed out onto the keyboard and seep into the minds of others', or at least out of the mind of my own.
Have a nice day and please be careful of the ice.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Water came out of your bed Mommy
This totally has nothing to do with writing, other than the fact that I am writing it, a'duh.
My three year old sleeps with me every night, which kicks my hubby right down onto the family room sofa, but that's beside the point. Anyway, last night she woke up, pushing hard on my shoulder to wake me. Her wide eyes full of fear as they tried hard to see my eyes through the dark room.
"Mommy, wake up, wake up. Hurry-water is coming out of the bed."
Her fear was so real as she tried to tug me out of the bed so this water wouldn't swallow me up and drown me. My dear young child was trying so desperately to save me.
"Hurry mommy, hurry. Look," she said tugging on her nightie. "It already got me all wet. Hurry mommy."
First I had to shake off a partial dream still in my foggy head before I realized exactly what was happening.
I felt her side of the bed, and it was wet. And by God she was right. Her nightie was soaked. Since I don't have a water bed I knew exactly what had happened.
I said, "Honey, it's okay. There's no water coming out of the bed. You went pee-pee. It's just an accident. I'll make it all..."
Before I could finish she interrupted as harshly as any three year old could.
"No I didn't. There's water coming out of the bed. See." By now I had the light on and her little innocent-there's no way I'd pee the bed finger was pointing at the big wet spot where *wink* water was coming out of it.
Needless to say, at three a.m. I am not arguing, explaining, or making anything up. I only had enough energy to clean her and the bed so I could just go back to sleep.
Finally we were all set. Everything was clean. I climbed in on my side of the bed and just before I was about the click the light off I realized she was standing on my side of the bed.
"What are you doing? Get into bed."
And with eyes and stance of any adult she said, "I AM NOT SLEEPING THERE. The water might come out of the bed again."
I slid over onto her side of the bed, turned the light off and snuggled next to my little big girl who for the first time since she was potty trained wet the bed.
Since she was entirely potty trained very early (she never wore a diaper or pull up, not even at night) by the time she was two months shy of three years old, and has never had an accident, I can see why she just couldn't imagine peeing the bed. It just would not, could not ever happen.
I wonder what's worse though???? Letting my kid fear we might drown while sleeping because I have a bed that gushes water at night, or tell her that sometimes kids have pee-pee accidents, and it really IS okay.
My three year old sleeps with me every night, which kicks my hubby right down onto the family room sofa, but that's beside the point. Anyway, last night she woke up, pushing hard on my shoulder to wake me. Her wide eyes full of fear as they tried hard to see my eyes through the dark room.
"Mommy, wake up, wake up. Hurry-water is coming out of the bed."
Her fear was so real as she tried to tug me out of the bed so this water wouldn't swallow me up and drown me. My dear young child was trying so desperately to save me.
"Hurry mommy, hurry. Look," she said tugging on her nightie. "It already got me all wet. Hurry mommy."
First I had to shake off a partial dream still in my foggy head before I realized exactly what was happening.
I felt her side of the bed, and it was wet. And by God she was right. Her nightie was soaked. Since I don't have a water bed I knew exactly what had happened.
I said, "Honey, it's okay. There's no water coming out of the bed. You went pee-pee. It's just an accident. I'll make it all..."
Before I could finish she interrupted as harshly as any three year old could.
"No I didn't. There's water coming out of the bed. See." By now I had the light on and her little innocent-there's no way I'd pee the bed finger was pointing at the big wet spot where *wink* water was coming out of it.
Needless to say, at three a.m. I am not arguing, explaining, or making anything up. I only had enough energy to clean her and the bed so I could just go back to sleep.
Finally we were all set. Everything was clean. I climbed in on my side of the bed and just before I was about the click the light off I realized she was standing on my side of the bed.
"What are you doing? Get into bed."
And with eyes and stance of any adult she said, "I AM NOT SLEEPING THERE. The water might come out of the bed again."
I slid over onto her side of the bed, turned the light off and snuggled next to my little big girl who for the first time since she was potty trained wet the bed.
Since she was entirely potty trained very early (she never wore a diaper or pull up, not even at night) by the time she was two months shy of three years old, and has never had an accident, I can see why she just couldn't imagine peeing the bed. It just would not, could not ever happen.
I wonder what's worse though???? Letting my kid fear we might drown while sleeping because I have a bed that gushes water at night, or tell her that sometimes kids have pee-pee accidents, and it really IS okay.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
As I wander through the family room picking up toys and trying to keep my Lab and Chihuahua off my partially folded laundry that I’m in the midst of, my mind is far away. On the outside of my head I hear a baby chick singing, I see a hamster walking a plank and my three year is singing songs that are way too old for her. On the inside of my head I’m wondering if I need the tell my story of Lemonade for Christmas in the original third person or switch it to first person. I’m debating a prologue and epilogue.
I’m pretty sure I have ADD. At the same time I’m trying to conjure up something special I can do with the girls before they go back to school and how I’m supposed to get the smell of the rabbits out of the basement. The vet says cedar chips can give them pneumonia, but even cleaning out their cage once a week and having a litter box in there still isn’t working. Perhaps cedar chips under the bedding will do, well see.
I love summer. But, it sure does keep me out of the routine of things. There is so much on my personal agenda that gets lost in the summer, for now that’s okay.
My back to school to do list is as follows:
Work on my book.
Schedule all fall appts.: Vet, dentist and eye exams.
Get the house in order: Closets, drawers, garage and basement
Go through toys (birthdays are coming up-more stuff) and get rid of some.
Sign girls up for gymnastics (they already play fall ball too)
Get my cracked windshield fixed
Prepare yard, garden, patio’s and deck for fall.
Get Halloween costumes
Plan b-day party for September 17th
Plan b-day party for October 6th
Get gift for my Nicky (turning 20 on October 29th)
Get back on exercise routine
Polish query letter and synopsis
And of course I have to do my whole real estate job thingy.
The entire month of September will consist of Saturday b-day parties for my own as well as relative’s kid’s parties and this will carry through into most of October’s Saturdays. Not to mention my own birthday is on the 28th, which I usually end up having to work.
Practically all Sundays will consist of devoting my days to open houses for my listings. And between homework, gymnastics and fall ball the weekday evening are pretty much all used up. So I will get three days a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday of every week (unless there is a holiday or something) during the just for me.
I DO intend to use this time wisely. I WILL GET MY BOOK POLISHED. IT WILL SHINE, AS WILL THE QUERY LETTER AND SYNOPSIS.
My main goal (of course other than being the best mom I can be) is to lead my readers through the publication process of my book. I intend to take you on a journey with me as I get the book perfect, send it to agents and then as they send it off to editors. And hopefully, the perfect end result-PUBLICATION.
I hope you follow me on my journey. An occasional ‘chin up’ comment when rejections come in . A ‘pat on the back’ when a request of offered. Most importantly a huge kick in the ass when I think about giving up.
Well, gotta go for now. Since it’s raining outside-it’s playtime on the inside. I’ve just been handed a yummy plate with (all plastic food) a hot dog, a crabby patty burger, French fries, ice cream cone, waffle, lemon, orange slice, the top of another bun, and a cup of tea from Chip (the cup in Beauty and The Beast)She will insist I eat it all. If I even try to tell her I’m done she will point out the ONE that I didn’t eat.
Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow.
I’m pretty sure I have ADD. At the same time I’m trying to conjure up something special I can do with the girls before they go back to school and how I’m supposed to get the smell of the rabbits out of the basement. The vet says cedar chips can give them pneumonia, but even cleaning out their cage once a week and having a litter box in there still isn’t working. Perhaps cedar chips under the bedding will do, well see.
I love summer. But, it sure does keep me out of the routine of things. There is so much on my personal agenda that gets lost in the summer, for now that’s okay.
My back to school to do list is as follows:
Work on my book.
Schedule all fall appts.: Vet, dentist and eye exams.
Get the house in order: Closets, drawers, garage and basement
Go through toys (birthdays are coming up-more stuff) and get rid of some.
Sign girls up for gymnastics (they already play fall ball too)
Get my cracked windshield fixed
Prepare yard, garden, patio’s and deck for fall.
Get Halloween costumes
Plan b-day party for September 17th
Plan b-day party for October 6th
Get gift for my Nicky (turning 20 on October 29th)
Get back on exercise routine
Polish query letter and synopsis
And of course I have to do my whole real estate job thingy.
The entire month of September will consist of Saturday b-day parties for my own as well as relative’s kid’s parties and this will carry through into most of October’s Saturdays. Not to mention my own birthday is on the 28th, which I usually end up having to work.
Practically all Sundays will consist of devoting my days to open houses for my listings. And between homework, gymnastics and fall ball the weekday evening are pretty much all used up. So I will get three days a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday of every week (unless there is a holiday or something) during the just for me.
I DO intend to use this time wisely. I WILL GET MY BOOK POLISHED. IT WILL SHINE, AS WILL THE QUERY LETTER AND SYNOPSIS.
My main goal (of course other than being the best mom I can be) is to lead my readers through the publication process of my book. I intend to take you on a journey with me as I get the book perfect, send it to agents and then as they send it off to editors. And hopefully, the perfect end result-PUBLICATION.
I hope you follow me on my journey. An occasional ‘chin up’ comment when rejections come in . A ‘pat on the back’ when a request of offered. Most importantly a huge kick in the ass when I think about giving up.
Well, gotta go for now. Since it’s raining outside-it’s playtime on the inside. I’ve just been handed a yummy plate with (all plastic food) a hot dog, a crabby patty burger, French fries, ice cream cone, waffle, lemon, orange slice, the top of another bun, and a cup of tea from Chip (the cup in Beauty and The Beast)She will insist I eat it all. If I even try to tell her I’m done she will point out the ONE that I didn’t eat.
Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
What to do? What to do?
I sit here today pondering a pounding question cutting into my brain so painfully. What am I supposed to do with my life? Don’t get me wrong. I have a full life. A wonderful life-better than I ever thought it would be. Better than I think most who have ever known me have thought it would be. And although I practically have two full time jobs as an at home mom and a Realtor-there is something missing.
I feel somewhat selfish in saying that, but it’s true. I’ve always been this kind of person. I can be a lot of things to a lot of people, but if I’m not who I want to be for me then there is something lacking. I’m envious of the people in the world who are satisfied by just being who they are and don’t need anything ‘special’ about who they are. Not that I want or need to be special. There are just parts of me missing. Ya know the feeling of not feeling complete. I’m a puzzle that some pieces are missing to. You can’t just sit there looking at that pretty little picture with missing pieces. You know they are around somewhere-they just need to be found.
Anyway, I hate my job as a Realtor these days. The market sucks a Mount Everest lollipop. Not that I was ever a good sales person. I’m just a good hand-holder. Seems 8 years is too long to go through life holding hands and hoping for a constant cash flow. These days I’m putting out more money than I’m making. I know, enough already about the whining. I know I need to do something about it.
I’ve set new goals for myself. Realistic goals (I’m pretty sure). Like I said earlier, I have two full time jobs. Well, I consider myself to have another full-time job. Behind closed doors, with only a few words seeping out beyond these doors, I am a writer. I put more time into my writing than I ever do with the Real Estate career. Hum, maybe that’s why I’m not making money. Anyway, that’s beside the point, and I don’t want to go there because writing is more important to me than any outside career I’ve ever had.
So my new goals are to begin when the kids go back to school in 12 days. I will have specific writing times to finish revising Lemonade for Christmas. I’m hoping to get it out there to agents by the end of September. I’m thinking that if agents/editors are reading it just before the Christmas Holiday then the impact of the story will be stronger then if it were being read at a different time, especially right after Christmas. I think most people feel that once the holiday is over-IT IS OVER. At least for the next 10 months or so.
The job I do so fully love is being a mom and I hate the fact that I just can’t stop thinking about just XXX more days before school starts. I am such a strong believer in the term DON’T WISH YOUR LIFE AWAY. Now that I’m 38 (soon to be 39) I think back on so many times where I did just wish my life away. Now I just want time to stay still for a while so I can enjoy my kids while they are still young. This is one of the most important reasons why I think it’s important that I don’t waste my time doing something I really don’t like. It takes so much time away from them, with the end result usually not worth it.
So as I sit here balancing my laptop outside amongst sidewalk chalk, floaties, abandoned Popsicle sticks and toddler gardening supplies I’m already missing my kids. Yes, they are all here, but will be back at school all too soon. It seems it was just a couple of days ago that I was screaming about all the toys left around the house, the pool towels tossed over railings and on their bedroom floor, and all the pool toys left in the pool or scattered about in the yard. I weekly wash about 10 bathing suits, most from all the ‘visitors’ who come swimming without a suit. Oh, and all the extra towels too. The makers of Tide love those who live my lifestyle.
Not to mention every night begging to have a sleepover. Groceries being eaten up by everyone walking through my door. Bikes, scooters and clothes being left here by all the visitors. Running the dishwasher more than once a day.
Well, honestly it probably was just a couple of days ago that I was yelling about all of those things. It was easier to be hard on them in the beginning of the summer, but now I’m already missing it.
Going back to school will also mean the pool will be closed. The happy, loud, splashing kids will be gone. The vegetable garden won’t have a bunch of feet running through it squealing with excitement over how big a cucumber got. The smell of hot dogs grilling will be gone. The swing set will collect cobwebs and the garage, driveway and yard will stay tidy. And of course there won’t be all the towels, extra clothes, kids running through eating up my food, bikes and scooters left around. I should be happy, right? I won’t have anything to complain about, right? Nope! As much as all of that drives me crazy, at the same time it thrills me. I know it won’t last for long. One day it will be gone forever and it will be then that I’ll want it even more.
So what was the point of this blog anyway? Oh yeah, I’m going to take my time and live in the moment. I will set my goals more realistically, not taking away from my family. I will use the three days a week (when I’m alone) to write. And once I know my manuscript is ready I will send it off into the world. That same world that my little ones will fly to someday. That same world that already holds my oldest. All my babies are precious to me, whether they have come from my womb or my heart. All of which I will only release when I know they are ready-WHEN THEY ARE TRULY READY.
I feel somewhat selfish in saying that, but it’s true. I’ve always been this kind of person. I can be a lot of things to a lot of people, but if I’m not who I want to be for me then there is something lacking. I’m envious of the people in the world who are satisfied by just being who they are and don’t need anything ‘special’ about who they are. Not that I want or need to be special. There are just parts of me missing. Ya know the feeling of not feeling complete. I’m a puzzle that some pieces are missing to. You can’t just sit there looking at that pretty little picture with missing pieces. You know they are around somewhere-they just need to be found.
Anyway, I hate my job as a Realtor these days. The market sucks a Mount Everest lollipop. Not that I was ever a good sales person. I’m just a good hand-holder. Seems 8 years is too long to go through life holding hands and hoping for a constant cash flow. These days I’m putting out more money than I’m making. I know, enough already about the whining. I know I need to do something about it.
I’ve set new goals for myself. Realistic goals (I’m pretty sure). Like I said earlier, I have two full time jobs. Well, I consider myself to have another full-time job. Behind closed doors, with only a few words seeping out beyond these doors, I am a writer. I put more time into my writing than I ever do with the Real Estate career. Hum, maybe that’s why I’m not making money. Anyway, that’s beside the point, and I don’t want to go there because writing is more important to me than any outside career I’ve ever had.
So my new goals are to begin when the kids go back to school in 12 days. I will have specific writing times to finish revising Lemonade for Christmas. I’m hoping to get it out there to agents by the end of September. I’m thinking that if agents/editors are reading it just before the Christmas Holiday then the impact of the story will be stronger then if it were being read at a different time, especially right after Christmas. I think most people feel that once the holiday is over-IT IS OVER. At least for the next 10 months or so.
The job I do so fully love is being a mom and I hate the fact that I just can’t stop thinking about just XXX more days before school starts. I am such a strong believer in the term DON’T WISH YOUR LIFE AWAY. Now that I’m 38 (soon to be 39) I think back on so many times where I did just wish my life away. Now I just want time to stay still for a while so I can enjoy my kids while they are still young. This is one of the most important reasons why I think it’s important that I don’t waste my time doing something I really don’t like. It takes so much time away from them, with the end result usually not worth it.
So as I sit here balancing my laptop outside amongst sidewalk chalk, floaties, abandoned Popsicle sticks and toddler gardening supplies I’m already missing my kids. Yes, they are all here, but will be back at school all too soon. It seems it was just a couple of days ago that I was screaming about all the toys left around the house, the pool towels tossed over railings and on their bedroom floor, and all the pool toys left in the pool or scattered about in the yard. I weekly wash about 10 bathing suits, most from all the ‘visitors’ who come swimming without a suit. Oh, and all the extra towels too. The makers of Tide love those who live my lifestyle.
Not to mention every night begging to have a sleepover. Groceries being eaten up by everyone walking through my door. Bikes, scooters and clothes being left here by all the visitors. Running the dishwasher more than once a day.
Well, honestly it probably was just a couple of days ago that I was yelling about all of those things. It was easier to be hard on them in the beginning of the summer, but now I’m already missing it.
Going back to school will also mean the pool will be closed. The happy, loud, splashing kids will be gone. The vegetable garden won’t have a bunch of feet running through it squealing with excitement over how big a cucumber got. The smell of hot dogs grilling will be gone. The swing set will collect cobwebs and the garage, driveway and yard will stay tidy. And of course there won’t be all the towels, extra clothes, kids running through eating up my food, bikes and scooters left around. I should be happy, right? I won’t have anything to complain about, right? Nope! As much as all of that drives me crazy, at the same time it thrills me. I know it won’t last for long. One day it will be gone forever and it will be then that I’ll want it even more.
So what was the point of this blog anyway? Oh yeah, I’m going to take my time and live in the moment. I will set my goals more realistically, not taking away from my family. I will use the three days a week (when I’m alone) to write. And once I know my manuscript is ready I will send it off into the world. That same world that my little ones will fly to someday. That same world that already holds my oldest. All my babies are precious to me, whether they have come from my womb or my heart. All of which I will only release when I know they are ready-WHEN THEY ARE TRULY READY.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Call Me A Slacker...
Well you can call me that if you wish, but this blog is the only thing I've been slacking about. I know, casting the blogging rod every two months, just isn't reeling in the readers. So, I will try to keep the promise I made to myself, and continue to blog as often as I can.
I've been so totally busy with Real Estate. In fact, lately I feel like the scrawny dude in the strong man competition, trying like hell to move these houses that just aren't selling. Nothing's selling right now. I'm physically and mentally exhausted by it all. But, it's my job, so here I am doing it. Now for a moment close your eyes (well wait 'til you read the rest of this sentence) and picture me strapping a big, thick rope to a 4000 square foot house and trying my best to pull it, just an inch...just a centimeter...no give. None at all. Oh, and the rope's in my teeth and I'm on roller skates. Not pretty, eh.
Enough Pouting. On to the good stuff.
The month of May was great with Mother's day at my house. Oh, how I love family get-togethers. And...I had my first piece published in May. It was an article, in The Huffington Post, for their Mother's Day Issue. Yea me-I was thrilled. Check it out here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/wendy-brown-/shes-still-my-little-gir_b_47707.html
May also included many softball games for my girls, several field trips, and my ten-year-old's birthday Party. And then a moment I had been waiting for all year...My trip to New York City for the Backspace conference. Backspace, the writer's forum, is a group of wonderful people with a common interest-they are already published, or are on their way to publication.
The conference was an absolute thrill. An all/awe inspiring three days for me. Not only did I get the chance to put faces to the names of the writer's on the forum, but I also had the opportunity to rub elbows with some of the finest agents and editors in the publishing industry. I heard the stories of how author's made their dreams become a reality, and heard stories from long-time authors such as David Morrell, who's story brought tears to my eyes.
This event evoked something so powerful inside of me. I couldn't wait to get back home and write. The anxiety so powerful within me. The adrenalin bubbling through my veins like lava about to erupt form a garden hose. In my mind, on the way home, I envisioned myself running along side my own car, then sprinting ahead several strides, until I beat myself to my own door. Rushing to get to the computer, where my characters were waiting to greet me, as an infant who needing nursing would.
And so...that's just what I've been up to. Trying my best to perfect my novel, Lemonade for Christmas, so all of you wonderful people can read it (bound) one day, instead of on 8 1/2 x 11, or the computer screen. In case there are readers unfamiliar with my book, I hope this sparks your interest:
Jack learns at the age of twelve what the true meaning of Christmas and family is really about. In the months prior to Christmas his life was turned upside down. First he learns that is mother is going to have a baby, then his friend becomes deathly ill, and lastly he is faced with the possible demise of his mother and unborn brother.
Prior to these events Jack only cared about himself and what money could buy him. Finding himself amidst the pain that no twelve year old should ever endure, he finds new meaning to life and Christmas. He also realizes that lessons are not only taught by parents and mentors, but by people we might least expect.
As each new holiday approaches, along with it comes the desire for inspiration to tug at our heart strings. It is a time when hope, sorrow, love and miracles are all within our reach. Some believe that inspiration is best found in the form of a tale, or a happenstance of another’s life, or perhaps as Jack might insist, in a cup of lemonade.
I believe, as Jack does, that inspiration can be found in the most unexpected places, by unexpected people. I also believe that if you take the time to indulge yourself in a bit of Lemonade for Christmas then you just might believe as well.
This novel is a quick read at only 210 fast paced pages. Even the busiest holiday shoppers can find the few hours it takes to capture the endless hours of inspiration found in this story.
This story should appeal to those who enjoyed similar seasonal novels such as The Christmas Box and The Christmas Shoes.
I hope this makes you want more. I will offer up more in future blogs. Hope to see you there. For now all, I'm hearing the voices...of my character's that is...feeding time.
I've been so totally busy with Real Estate. In fact, lately I feel like the scrawny dude in the strong man competition, trying like hell to move these houses that just aren't selling. Nothing's selling right now. I'm physically and mentally exhausted by it all. But, it's my job, so here I am doing it. Now for a moment close your eyes (well wait 'til you read the rest of this sentence) and picture me strapping a big, thick rope to a 4000 square foot house and trying my best to pull it, just an inch...just a centimeter...no give. None at all. Oh, and the rope's in my teeth and I'm on roller skates. Not pretty, eh.
Enough Pouting. On to the good stuff.
The month of May was great with Mother's day at my house. Oh, how I love family get-togethers. And...I had my first piece published in May. It was an article, in The Huffington Post, for their Mother's Day Issue. Yea me-I was thrilled. Check it out here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/wendy-brown-/shes-still-my-little-gir_b_47707.html
May also included many softball games for my girls, several field trips, and my ten-year-old's birthday Party. And then a moment I had been waiting for all year...My trip to New York City for the Backspace conference. Backspace, the writer's forum, is a group of wonderful people with a common interest-they are already published, or are on their way to publication.
The conference was an absolute thrill. An all/awe inspiring three days for me. Not only did I get the chance to put faces to the names of the writer's on the forum, but I also had the opportunity to rub elbows with some of the finest agents and editors in the publishing industry. I heard the stories of how author's made their dreams become a reality, and heard stories from long-time authors such as David Morrell, who's story brought tears to my eyes.
This event evoked something so powerful inside of me. I couldn't wait to get back home and write. The anxiety so powerful within me. The adrenalin bubbling through my veins like lava about to erupt form a garden hose. In my mind, on the way home, I envisioned myself running along side my own car, then sprinting ahead several strides, until I beat myself to my own door. Rushing to get to the computer, where my characters were waiting to greet me, as an infant who needing nursing would.
And so...that's just what I've been up to. Trying my best to perfect my novel, Lemonade for Christmas, so all of you wonderful people can read it (bound) one day, instead of on 8 1/2 x 11, or the computer screen. In case there are readers unfamiliar with my book, I hope this sparks your interest:
Jack learns at the age of twelve what the true meaning of Christmas and family is really about. In the months prior to Christmas his life was turned upside down. First he learns that is mother is going to have a baby, then his friend becomes deathly ill, and lastly he is faced with the possible demise of his mother and unborn brother.
Prior to these events Jack only cared about himself and what money could buy him. Finding himself amidst the pain that no twelve year old should ever endure, he finds new meaning to life and Christmas. He also realizes that lessons are not only taught by parents and mentors, but by people we might least expect.
As each new holiday approaches, along with it comes the desire for inspiration to tug at our heart strings. It is a time when hope, sorrow, love and miracles are all within our reach. Some believe that inspiration is best found in the form of a tale, or a happenstance of another’s life, or perhaps as Jack might insist, in a cup of lemonade.
I believe, as Jack does, that inspiration can be found in the most unexpected places, by unexpected people. I also believe that if you take the time to indulge yourself in a bit of Lemonade for Christmas then you just might believe as well.
This novel is a quick read at only 210 fast paced pages. Even the busiest holiday shoppers can find the few hours it takes to capture the endless hours of inspiration found in this story.
This story should appeal to those who enjoyed similar seasonal novels such as The Christmas Box and The Christmas Shoes.
I hope this makes you want more. I will offer up more in future blogs. Hope to see you there. For now all, I'm hearing the voices...of my character's that is...feeding time.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
A Bitter-Sweet Holiday
Well the holiday is over, but my feelings about it dwell. The day itself was great, however it leaves me a bit empty inside. It was my first holiday without my oldest with me. In reading my earlier posts you've heard that she moved to Philly. She did come home for the holiday, spending an hour at our house on Saturday to cut hair for a few family members, then off to dinner with her boyfriends family, which is where they stayed the night. Ah, my heart. For the first time she would not be here to find her Easter basket and hunt for the eggs.
I thought when she said she was coming home on Saturday she meant that she was staying the night here. Her and her boyfriend's baskets were made up, and as I sit her to write, their baskets still await patiently to be found by the small child I still see her as.
Although she is nineteen I still couldn't see myself not making her up a basket. I know it probably seems strange to all of you. But to those of you with small children I'm sure you just can't seem to really picture them grown up and on their own. I will do what I have to in order to keep my heart intact. Letting go is harder than I ever imagined. I know I will be a true basket case by the time my youngest leaves home. Perhaps by that time I will be ready since that is still sixteen years away. Maybe by then I will be tired-I hope not. I hope to never get tired of being a needed mother. I know they will always need me in their own way. I just want them to need me in the way I need them to need me??? Not sure if that makes any sense or not.
Anywho, we spent Easter day with my in-laws, and then off to my moms where I just love spending time with my family-mother and sisters and all who are attached to them. I think there is nothing greater than family. My hubby and others I know just cringe at running all around on the holidays to visit family. Not me. I love it. There is never enough time to see everyone, and this at least makes us make the time, and I am just incredibly thankful for the family I do have to visit. Some people don't have any (left). I hope to never be that unfortunate. Family is the best thing we have. Without them nothing else would matter-not a nice, big house. Not our careers. Not our goals or dreams. Without family all that other stuff is pointless-through my eyes anyway.
Another sad thing about this holiday is that my 8 and 9 year old don't really believe in the Easter Bunny any more. They've been questioning for the past year or two about him and Santa. I have told them what I always told my oldest, "You have the right to believe what you want. To listen to your friends, but you never know what will happen if you don't believe-so you decide". That made the wheels turn in my oldest's head years ago, and now I believe in the other's heads as well. I provided the belief (along with society), so I think it's only fair that I not take it away from them. I think the only one who can really take it away from them, is 'them'. Believing in such things is part of being an innocent kid and as these things slowly disappear, as does their childhood.
Kids only get a chance of being a kid once and it doesn't last that long. I give my kids room to grow and discover themselves. I want them to be independent and strong willed, but I never want their childhood to dissolve before its time. These days kids are growing up too fast and it is our job as parents to create and preserve a child-like environment for them. It's bad enough that we are constantly aware that they will grow up, so helping them be kids is one of the greatest, most rewarded jobs I have as a mother.
So in saying that let me leave you on this note.
On the days that you really don't feel like putting that puzzle together, or playing dress up, or pushing them on the swing, or eating plastic food, or dancing silly, or baking a cake with them (for fear of making the kitchen a mess). Do it. Do it all. Take the time. Let the kitchen get messy. Let the laudry pile up. Let go-be a kid yourself-if only in your heart. Not only will they have the best time and appreciate it, but you will too, even more than you can imagine.
We are all blessed by being parents. These little people are not just small roommates, they are the smiles on our faces, the fullness in our hearts, our hope for tomorrow and a memory of who we were, and the dreams of who they will become.
I thought when she said she was coming home on Saturday she meant that she was staying the night here. Her and her boyfriend's baskets were made up, and as I sit her to write, their baskets still await patiently to be found by the small child I still see her as.
Although she is nineteen I still couldn't see myself not making her up a basket. I know it probably seems strange to all of you. But to those of you with small children I'm sure you just can't seem to really picture them grown up and on their own. I will do what I have to in order to keep my heart intact. Letting go is harder than I ever imagined. I know I will be a true basket case by the time my youngest leaves home. Perhaps by that time I will be ready since that is still sixteen years away. Maybe by then I will be tired-I hope not. I hope to never get tired of being a needed mother. I know they will always need me in their own way. I just want them to need me in the way I need them to need me??? Not sure if that makes any sense or not.
Anywho, we spent Easter day with my in-laws, and then off to my moms where I just love spending time with my family-mother and sisters and all who are attached to them. I think there is nothing greater than family. My hubby and others I know just cringe at running all around on the holidays to visit family. Not me. I love it. There is never enough time to see everyone, and this at least makes us make the time, and I am just incredibly thankful for the family I do have to visit. Some people don't have any (left). I hope to never be that unfortunate. Family is the best thing we have. Without them nothing else would matter-not a nice, big house. Not our careers. Not our goals or dreams. Without family all that other stuff is pointless-through my eyes anyway.
Another sad thing about this holiday is that my 8 and 9 year old don't really believe in the Easter Bunny any more. They've been questioning for the past year or two about him and Santa. I have told them what I always told my oldest, "You have the right to believe what you want. To listen to your friends, but you never know what will happen if you don't believe-so you decide". That made the wheels turn in my oldest's head years ago, and now I believe in the other's heads as well. I provided the belief (along with society), so I think it's only fair that I not take it away from them. I think the only one who can really take it away from them, is 'them'. Believing in such things is part of being an innocent kid and as these things slowly disappear, as does their childhood.
Kids only get a chance of being a kid once and it doesn't last that long. I give my kids room to grow and discover themselves. I want them to be independent and strong willed, but I never want their childhood to dissolve before its time. These days kids are growing up too fast and it is our job as parents to create and preserve a child-like environment for them. It's bad enough that we are constantly aware that they will grow up, so helping them be kids is one of the greatest, most rewarded jobs I have as a mother.
So in saying that let me leave you on this note.
On the days that you really don't feel like putting that puzzle together, or playing dress up, or pushing them on the swing, or eating plastic food, or dancing silly, or baking a cake with them (for fear of making the kitchen a mess). Do it. Do it all. Take the time. Let the kitchen get messy. Let the laudry pile up. Let go-be a kid yourself-if only in your heart. Not only will they have the best time and appreciate it, but you will too, even more than you can imagine.
We are all blessed by being parents. These little people are not just small roommates, they are the smiles on our faces, the fullness in our hearts, our hope for tomorrow and a memory of who we were, and the dreams of who they will become.
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