No One To Blame But Myself

I was playing around with a new website design  . . . ya know . . . trying to update the look and it hit me.  I’ve nothing recent to put on it. The last short story or poem I had published was back in January 2008.  Where did the time go?  Here is the new site – pretty dismal huh? I feel like such a failure.

Perhaps my shift from poetry and short stories to novels wasn’t such a grand idea, but I can’t help but wonder if I was really getting back what I put in to those markets. Did I get paid? A little. Did I get a publishing credit? Sure, but where did that get me? Would I be better off now if I had spent more time building credentials in those areas? Unfortunately, I don’t think so.

Perhaps it’s time to get into the non-fiction and article markets.  Yeah right . . . me and everyone else who is determined to write part time. But hey, I have an opinion.  I have research skills. I don’t have a platform, but everyone has to start somewhere.  It feels like starting from scratch again. I’m not certain where it will go, but I’m not getting anywhere doing nothing.

B4 MADE THE MIDDLE SCHOOL BASKETBALL TEAM! The legend of the Birch kids is complete.

I got good news from one of my doctors today.  I’m pretty healthy and just need annual checkups to make sure what developed way back when, doesn’t come back again.  Thank goodness, with all the crap that’s been going on with so-called healthcare reform getting sick is scary. I have so much faith (insert big fat dose of sarcasm here) that the goverment will do this right.  See this link. I mean come on! Really? Pathetic!

In fact, everything is getting scary.  With “knee cap” and trade taxes, healthcare reform that the government won’t allow the people to read before they vote, attacks on freedom of speech and any who disagree with the great leader and his minions and terrorism threats, the US is a scary place to be if your beliefs do not fall in line.  Well, my taxes are clean and I have no criminal record, I perform my job well and I’m a pretty good person, so bring it on. The socialist agenda and power grab of this administration is shameful, stained with corruption on so many levels and not to mention unconstitutional. Not saying the Bush administration was any better. What ever happened to integrity and character?

And now on to this link from CNN about the body of a seven-year-old girl found in a landfill. Gee, let me look into my crystal ball and predict that the demon who committed this horrendous act was a paroled sex offender that some lenient and out of touch judge let out early for good behavior.  The only reason for this devil’s good behavior was that there were no seven-year-old girls walking around on the prison yard. Study after study states that SEX OFFENDERS CANNOT BE REHABILITATED! Yet, year after year, these monsters are let out of our prisons to prey on innocence. Perhaps if this crime was commited against this same judge who let the bastard out of prison, then the laws would change. Until these animals are locked up forever or castrated upon release, these tragedies will continue to be front page news. My heart goes out to the Thompson family and their community.

There was a case in town recently where a brutal home invasion resulted in an elderly couple being terrorized in their home by a group of teenage thugs, more than one with long rap sheets, the wife being tied up and the couple robbed. The elderly gentleman chased them down after they left and shot one of the culprits dead. Do you know they had to prove that the teenagers were armed so the elderly man wouldn’t get charged with murder? The man received death threats after this happened. I say, he should have fired a few more rounds and killed all of them. 

Of course the remaining suspects are all out on bonds of $15,000 (they only have to pay 10%) until their court date thanks to another lenient judge. Uhmm, wonder how many sex offenders this judge let out of jail early because of “good behavior”? How safe does that make you feel?

This week, there have been two home invasions in the small town where I live, which is a suburb of a medium-sized southern city. Now, does anyone wonder why Americans need to arm themselves?

Okay, I’m off my soapbox now. I’d once toyed with separating my political views from this blog. But, my outlook on life, my experiences, and my beliefs determine how I write, how I parent, how I approach my work and what I believe. They are all a part of who I am, so when the need strikes, I will blog my opinion. I hope others do the same. There is room for dissenting viewpoints and those with them, need to voice them – peacefully of course. I’ll do that, but just don’t “invade my house”. Then you’ll find no peace, just a short woman with a very big gun.

Have a wonderful day everyone!

Random Thought

It’s October 19th and 35 degrees F in a mid-size southern city. Global Warming my ass!

Doing the Unthinkable . . .

Today to due some unforeseen circumstances I found that I HAD TO CLEAN MY OWN HOUSE! Oh. the. horror. I’ve had a lady who comes and cleans once a week since . . . well . . . forever. I leave on Wednesday morning and when I come home Wednesday afternoon, it’s all clean. Sure it costs money, but when the kids were younger and I was running constantly with their sports, if I didn’t have the house professionally cleaned, then we’d be living in filth.

So this morning after breakfast, I divied up the chores. I hope no one believes I actually cleaned all three floors or 3700 square feet by myself, because with three able-bodied kids, that ain’t about to happen.

B4 took the upstairs. There he had to dust all of the furniture (including my wall o’ bookshelves in my office) and run the vacuum sweeper. B2 got the main floor where she had to clean all of the glass, dust and run the vacuum sweeper. B3 took the basement where she too, cleaned glass, dusted and ran the vacuum sweeper.  What is left you ask? Well try the kitchen, three and half baths and the laundry room.

By 1:30 we’re were all done, but I’m glad I don’t have to do this every week. B1 sauntered home as we finished, after spending the weekend in the infield at Lowes Motor Speedway for the iforgetthename Race. But the jokes on him because he had to cut the grass, probably for the last time this year.  It only got in the mid-fifties today, so I think I stepped outside twice to put some stuff in the recycle bin.

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. Gaw I hate the dentist.

B2 is done with HS volleyball and hopefully all school sports until softball next spring.  I’ve heard the basketball coach is supposed to talk to her about the JV team. B3 has her first volleyball game of the tournament tomorrow, B4 has two more football games left and B1 is heading into basketball season.

Writing-wise, I have no plan. I’ll just have to wing it.

Coffee All Over the Keyboard

Literally, and I’m not talking about some small dainty cup. I’m talking big honkin’ 24 oz half-full, BAM, SPLASH, OH SHIT all over my wireless keyboard. It dried it off and so far it’s working.  I have another one that we purchased for the flat screen, but since the Compaq Presario went missing, we haven’t needed to open it.  I suspect I know what happened to the Compaq Presario but I have no proof. It was old, but that’s no excuse. I’ll end it here.

Before I forget,  I have a new post up on The Scruffy Dog Review Blog.

I have another request for a full.  That’s four out of ten queries. I also have one rejection and 5 no answers so far.

B3 is sick today. It was so sudden.  We were watching a DVR’ed show last night around 6:30 and she was fine.  But by 8:30 she was shaking and feverish.  I didn’t take her temp, but I knew that it was well over 100 and I’d guess 102 by mommy-hand standards.  She slept in my bed so I could keep an eye on her.  This morning she feels cooler, but she’s not going to school. They’d just send her home anyway and wait to call me after I’ve already drove most of the way to work. Yep, I’m going into work. She’s a big girl and she knows how to use the phone.

B4 is trying out for the middle school basketball team.  There’s no pressure or anything – he’d just be the only Birch kid who didn’t make the team as a 6th grader. I’m hoping he’ll make the team on his talent and skill, but if not I hope the coach will take pity on him and put him on the team, even to just sit the bench. Oh there I go again, selling him short. But . . . he is short .  That’s the problem. Whereas B1 was one on the taller kids in his grade, B4 is one of the smallest.  It’s not that B1 was a better ball player at that age, he just had height.  B4 is alot scrappier though. Could it be . . . fledgling Napoleon complex?  So I’m just having positive thoughts.

We finally had to turn the heat on.  The temperature dropped down to the 40s last night.  It is also rainy and I built my first fire of the season in the fireplace. B2 wore her underarmour to school today.

I took the plunge and did something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.  With this rough economy, the odds are that I won’t succeed, but I definitely won’t succeed if I don’t try.

Well, I better get moving. Have a great day everyone!

Rainy Tuesday

B2’s ride to school is sick so I’ve had to take her the past few mornings.  The traffic isn’t bad if I leave right at 6:30 am.  But it’s really backed up as I’m leaving. Hopefully the boy she rides with feels better soon and hopefully it’s not swine flu.

There hasn’t been much writing going on.  I have my next SDR blog almost complete, I have two book reviews I need to finish (and start) and I have to format some poetry for the SDR November Issue. As far as the queries, I haven’t heard back from anyone else. 

Today B2 has an away volleyball game, but since she didn’t go to practice Saturday, she isn’t allowed to play this game or next game, even though she followed the psycho coach’s instructions to just text her if she can’t make Saturday practice.  She didn’t make Saturday volleyball practice, but her school softball coach insisted she come to his practice.  I really wish these people would communicate with each other and quit putting kids in the middle of their drama.  She didn’t even take her v-ball uniform, so I’m certain I’ll get a frantic call around lunchtime to bring it.  Well, tough luck because it ain’t going to happen.

B3 had a volleyball game in another county and B4 has football practice.  B1 has school basketball tryouts this afternoon, so he can’t pick up B4.  So I might end up driving back to school to pick B4 up and then drive to another county to pick B3 up from her game.  If I have to do this, I will miss most of the game.  I’ll have to see what hubby’s day looks like.  He’s not a morning person, so I don’t say much to him before 7 am.

The day job is hectic and I spent most of Sunday working, attempting to get a jump start on Monday.  It was a good idea but by noon, I was already behind again.  I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything less, I mean they just took some poor sap’s full time job and dumped it on me, not caring that I already had a full time job. But there’s no use in complaining, the whole damned office is the same way.

Speaking of the day job, I’d better get going.  Have a wonderful day.

An Early Start

It’s a little after 7 am on Saturday.  B1 has to be at his driving class (see ticket post) at 8 am, so guess who had to get him up, give him $180.00 money order, google directions and get him out the door.  It’s called a “Prayer for Judgement” and there is only one per family every two years.  Hubby has used this in the past and I’ve never had a traffic ticket, so basically, hubby and B2 (when she gets her license) are screwed for two years.  Not me though, cause I don’t get tickets!

B2 has school softball conditioning from 12 to 2 pm, dance class from 3 to 4:30 and then they have to go dress shopping. I think they found one. It’s long, deep rich purple and will be a georgeous splash of color against the dreary February landscape. Unless we an early spring! Yeah, there I go, dreaming again.

B4 has a football game at 3 pm today. After that I’m done, except with countless loads of laundry, grocery shopping and other crappola.

Hubby and B3 are in Myrtle Beach for a softball tournament.  I hope they do well, but that team is a loose cannon. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but never ever consistent throughout an entire tournament.

I’ve been squeezing out 20 minutes at lunch to write, unless I have to go to the bank. Financial transactions are the only diversion. Since I only have 30 minutes for lunch, I can drive to the local park, write for awhile, then head back.  I can normally get about 200 – 300 words. It’s not a lot, but it will add up. I’ve also been writing during practices, but that was when I normally read.  I’ve been holding my books hostage, leaving them in the nightstand drawer to read before I go to sleep.

I’ve had horrible eating habits lately and it’s starting to catch up with me.  It’s not just me, it’s the entire family.  I swear when the world as we know it is over, only the cockroaches and the Birchs will survive because both eat nothing but crap! Last weekend though I did make another pot of chicken noodle soup because it was dreary outside and a small bowl of leftovers actually made it to Sunday. I also made two pots of tortilla soup and it did last two days.  But other than that, there’s been no cooking just fast food, cold cereal and granola bars.  Nothing good can come from that.

As I type, I have my feet in water with the Aqua Chi. Yeah, I know many believe it is a scam, but few of the naysayers haven’t even tried one.  I did my own little experiment just to assure myself that I wasn’t being scammed.

We have well water, so if the water turned colors as a result of the minerals in the water, then it would to it with the array in the water with or without my feet. I put the array in the water for 20 minutes and it didn’t change at all.  It was clear.

Next I thought, I’d put the wrist band on, leave the array in the water but leave my feet out. The wrist band sends low currents of electricity through the body by way of the wrist pressure point. I did this for 10 minutes and again, nothing.

Next I put my feet in and within 45 seconds the water started turning brown as it normally does.  And NO, my feet weren’t dirty – not that dirty anyway.  Now, will this testimonial convince anyone? Doubtful, but it eased my mind and I know I feel much lighter and energetic after I have one. So there!

Well, time’s up! Now it more coffee and a shower.  Have a wonderful weekend everyone.

Happy Birthday to ME!!!!

Yep, another year and I lived to tell about it.  I used to pretend that I not longer had a birthday, but then realized that was just silly. Everyone has their day and why not let everyone know when your day is.  Today is my day!

You know when you read a book and see a sentence and think, “I wouldn’t have written that like that,” or “I would have written this different.” There’s nothing wrong with plot or character, just little nuances.  Well, that’s what it’s been like with the YA Historical.  No glaring errors, just little things I’d do differently – not better, not worse – just differently.  I should be done with it today and will send it off tomorrow.

This evening is busy: B2 has a school volleyball game and softball practice at 7pm; B3 has a school volleyball game and softball practice at 7pm (not at the same field as B2, but they are close); and B4 has football practice at 6pm.

How to know . . .

I have two novels that should and will not ever see print . . . or sunlight.  Funny, one of them actually snagged me an agent for a year at a reputable agency.  That was 2001.

Since that book, I’ve written 6 others, all YA.  It was during these years where I developed my voice, style and made up my mind (sort of) as to what my focus should be.  All of these have rode the “query go round” in the past, but what makes me decide what to resurrect and what to shelve?

Typically, it’s the agent rejections themselves. I really didn’t get alot of form rejections on these projects and all of them had at least twenty agent requests for partials or full reads. Many rejections commented on market conditions or the “hard sell” of the genre. 

My other home is the local B&N.  It’s really close to where both B2, B3 and B4 practice sports, so if I have a couple hours to kill, that’s where I’ll go. As I browse the YA section, the shelves are crammed full of girl-centered urban fantasy. I mean crammed freakin’ full of it.  Now I’m certain these novels were queried, agented and contracted a year to a year and a half ago, so a brilliant writer could submit a great YA urban fantasy to an agent or publisher, but it would still be a hard sell. Not because the book wasn’t worthy but just because the market is so darned saturated.

The particular project that I’ve decided to resurrect and query is a YA boy-centered civil war historical. I got wonderful feedback from agents about three years ago. During that time agencies and agents have come and gone.  I sent out ten e-queries on Sunday and I’ve already received three requests for the manuscript.

Today, I need to finish the read through of the manuscript before I send it off tonight. I also need to start plotting two book reviews for the November Issue of the SDR.  I also have to get to work.  Have a wonderfuly day!

I’m in the “groove”

Today anyway.  Check out my blog post CARPE DIEM . . . OR NOT on THE SCRUFFY DOG REVIEW BLOG.

My beloved Husqvarna backpack is giving me some major neck and back pain, so I had to retire it for a messenger bag. I love that backpack and even after three years of nonstop use, it is still in great shape. It just had “rugged individual” written all over it.

The messenger bag does have a bit more space and since I haven’t decided which project I’m going to focus on, I stuffed a notebook for each project, a binder to hold research and notes for both projects as well has my wireless mouse, external hard drive, planner and work computer in it. No wonder I have pains in the right side of my body.  Perhaps I’ll carry it on my left side for awhile.

I finished typing all of my handwritten pages of  Project 3 tonight and did some editing for another SDR blog post next week.

Now it’s off to pack lunches for tomorrow and give B1 his list of things to do for tomorrow.  Since both B2 and B3 have a volleyball games tomorrow, he’ll have to pick up B4 from school and probably take him to football practice.

Project #3  2376 words / 60000 words  3.96%

Project # 1 957 words / 60000 words  1.60%

Finally! The SUN!

The sun came out around noon, drying up the water from yesterday’s rain. But boy, did it get hot! I’m glad I’m inside doing the gazillion loads of laundry I didn’t get done yesterday.

B2 has been invited to be a part of her friend’s Quinceañera.  I didn’t even know these existed until she told me about it, but it is definitely an honor.  She’s over at the country club right now for her first ballroom dancing lesson.  God, I’d love to be a fly on the wall.  It’s got to be hysterical – not for B2 because she’s had 7 years of ballet, but she’s one of 14 kids in the court.

I sent out nine queries for a project today and I’m working on New Project 3.  I’ve about 1000 words written for New Project 3 (which is a revamped New Project 2) and New Project 1.  I’m not certain which one I want to focus on.  I have to pick one because I know if I don’t, neither one of them will get done.  So, here are the openings. Can you help me decide?

Chapter 1 of Project 3

      “He knows you’re here,” the nurse said.

      “How so,” Raina asked, not bothering to look up. She was a critical point in her work.

      “I won’t bore you with the details . . . that’s just what the research says.”

      Raina didn’t see how. Rob had been unconscious since the accident a week ago. She didn’t want to think about what people said happened. She couldn’t, not now, maybe not ever. She focused, her ink on Rob’s arm, just her and her art. The only sounds were her deep breaths and the steady beats from the life support.

      “That’s unusual,” the nurse said, looking over Raina’s shoulder. “Did he let you draw on him before the accident.”

      “He used to . . . before-.” Raina stopped talking. “Should I not? It’s henna – completely washable.” She couldn’t quit now.

      “I won’t tell if you won’t.” The nurse stood still, moving only her mouth as she counted Rob’s heartbeats. The antiseptic smell of sick people and sanitized stainless steel overwhelmed her.

      “Thank you. When he wakes up, I want him to know that I’ve been here. He’ll recognize the tattoo.”

      “As I said before, he knows you’re here.” She quietly left the room.

      Raina glanced at her watch. If she stayed to finish, she’d be late for school, not that her being there made a difference. It was the last week of class and her finals were finished. Worse, she’d have to stand silently by and watch as the other kids poured out their sympathy and attention to Rob’s girlfriend Jenna.

      It wouldn’t have mattered as much if she thought Jenna was actually concerned about Rob, but Jenna’s only concern was Jenna. No one cared or even remembered that Raina and Rob were best friends until high school – when their friendship was ripped apart by some invisible tear in the social fabric that threaded itself through every student who entered its hallowed halls. Of course he’d still pop over to her house when he had nothing else going on, pretending like things hadn’t changed. But they had.

      It was all so unfair. She hated feeling this way. Life always had its share of bump and bruises, but the feeling of helplessness as her best friend drifted away and now this just sucked.

Chapter 1 of New Project 1

Saint Denis, France May 1212

       A tattered cloak made its way, seemingly without notice, through the marketplace of Saint Denis. Beneath the hood, Isidora exposed only enough of her eyes to see the muddy road that led to the town square and kept her haversack of elixirs and potions close to her. The sick folk at the marketplace would just have to wait until tomorrow to purchase their medicines – she had business to attend to. Urgent business. In less than an hour her mother was to be tried as a witch.

      A dead wind blew through the winding streets, touching everything with cold, even though the sun was shining. Isidora pulled her cloak closer to her throat, remembering her mother’s repeated warning that cold, damp air carries ill spirits. The town was certainly full of ill spirits today.

      “Watch it!” hollered an old man pushing a heavy cart, when she stepped into his path.

      “Pardon,” she whispered, and stepped back to let him pass. There was already a crowd gathers in the square and she snaked her way to the front, hoping her mother wouldn’t see her.

      Aubrey Barton looked pitiful – dirty clothes, ratty black hair and smudges of dirt on her face, and it was obvious that she hadn’t had a decent meal or a restful night since King Phillip’s men took her away over a week ago. Despite her shambled appearance and the shackles, Isidora could see the fire in her eyes and the will to survive. She’d be found innocent and come home soon, Isidora reasoned. After all, she’d done nothing wrong. Nothing other than spurn the attention of a powerful townsman.