Libraries

I visited my local library for the second time last weekend and found myself charmed again by the quaintness of it. Their card catalog actually has cards. Most "card" catalogs are online now. Plus, they still use that machine--the one that goes "ka-chunck, ka-chunk"--to stamp dates on the due date cards inside each book. When I asked to request a book, they told me to fill out a little piece of paper with my name and number. They had no idea who had the book or when it was due back in because nothing is computerized. It's shocking how quickly you get used to life with computers at the center of it.

I'm pretty sure I was a kid the last time I was in a library like this. I loved our library in Hillsboro. They had a huge wooden circulation desk, one that I could barely see over, right in front of the doors. The finish on the top of the desk was worn and flaking off from all the book covers being slid across it. Two fake leather armchairs sat in front of fake fireplace to the left. The adult section, big, mysterious and full of thick books, was located on the opposite side of the main floor from the children's section, all the better to keep curious children away. If I remember correctly, my mom had to sign a form to allow me to check out adult books as I'd read my way through the entire children's section. In fact, the library used to call our house to let me know when they got new books in. I love small towns and small libraries!

I'm off to go pick up my requested book--I just got the call that it's been turned it. : )

Something to read

While you're waiting for me to get my act together and write a full entry, check out this interview I did with Once Upon A Romance. Connie came up with all kinds of thought-provoking questions, and I had fun coming up with answers.

I haven't dropped off the face of Earth...not yet, anyway.

Making some pretty big life decisions here these days, so my time and energy has been pulled away from the blog. As soon as I know for sure what I've decided to do, I'll post it all here. And for those who hate it when I post these vaguely ominous entries--this isn't anything bad. At all. It's just a change. And everybody knows how much I hate change. So, I've got to make up my mind which way I'm going to go on this and then stick with it for awhile.

More to follow...I promise!

Get this...

-Last night, I went to the Jewel to pick up a few things and I noticed that they had a new pin pad thingy for your credit card (because I'm weird and notice things like that). When I confessed my surprise that they hadn't chosen the model with the screen and the (annoying) pen-like device for signatures, the cashier pointed me to something better. Now, apparently, you can pay at the Jewel with YOUR FINGER. It's true. You go to a kiosk in the corner and give it all your bank info and then it takes a picture of your finger. Then, when you go through the check-out line, you just scan your finger on this little device next to the pin pad thingie and it checks it against the previously taken photo of your finger. How wild is that!?!

-Many of you know of my great apathy toward the Olympic games. I'm one of the few people rolling their eyes at the utter lack of new programming on other stations, just because said stations assume that EVERYONE is watching the Olympics. I can't be the only one who is just not that into them. Now, I find out that there's a reason why. They're not being held on Hoth. Check this out--one guy's way of trying to make the Olympics interesting again. Now this I would watch.

-Enceladusians? Enceladutians? Don't know, maybe they should have picked an easier name for a moon that has water and could, theortically support life forms that would then have to bear the name of their planet in some form. I realize that they're probably like microbes or whatever, but still. Martian is much easier. Also, yea for NASA, they made it into orbit. One of the cool things is that they'll be using this mission to look for water and possible landing sites for human exploration in the future. Neat!

Have a good weekend everybody!

Tee, hee!

I just purchased the soundtrack for Pride and Prejudice. It's such beautiful music and I remember parts of the movie just from listening to it. Oh, yeah, I think it's almost time for an intervention. "Hi, my name is Stacey and I'm a Jane Austen addict."

Yesterday, I even spent a whole five or ten minutes at lunch trying to convince my friend, Ed, to watch it. He tolerated my politicking, but I think only because I agreed to split an order of Max andErma's chocolate chip cookies with him. *grin*

No Veronica Mars or Lost tonight. *sigh* Maybe I should watch a movie. Hmmm, I wonder which one?

Just kidding. Sort of.

Ha! Actually, we have to watch The Corpse Bride tonight because I think it's due back tomorrow. I've been very good so far at returning things on time. I'm notorious for racking up late fees (five or ten dollars worth, at most, but still...), returning the movies and then never going back to that store again because we move. I'd prefer to try a different strategy this time.

I am a head case...not that you're surprised.

I got a little nibble on a query yesterday, which excited me, of course. So I immediately made all the necessary arrangements to respond accordingly. This requires hours of overanalzying every word in a letter that is probably only three sentences long. At which point, I must then freak out about everything ranging from the sturdiness of my envelope ("What if it rips before arriving to its destination?"), my signature on the letter ("Does it look too wobbly, like I was drunk?") and checking three times to make sure all materials are enclosed before sealing the envelope. This resulted in me leaving the post office (after handing over my package to a slightly worried looking woman who appeared to be a little freaked out by the chick who didn't seem to want to surrender her package--me!), fairly certain that I'd put everything in except the very important self-addressed stamped envelope required for a reply. I called my husband twice while the poor man was in the shower demanding that he check the area around the dining room table to make sure that the SASE (as they're called) hadn't slipped unnoticed out of my hands and onto the floor when I was checking my package for the fourth, obssessive compulsive time. He was not happy.

But it's sent now and we'll just have to see what happens. : )

Incidentally, I did check the area around the dining room table and found it SASE-free, so hopefully that means it made it into the big envelope!

P.S. Hi Susan, if you're out surfing the web when you're supposed to be studying! : )

Mrs. Darcy!

Stopped by the video store last night after they didn't have a single copy of Pride & Prejudice in on Tuesday night. They were still all out! But then the manager saw my obvious distress and went to the drop-off box outside and found a single copy. And oh, my, it was soooooooo good. I was a little reluctant to see it when it came out in theaters as I was (and still am) a huge fan of the A&E version with Colin Firth. But this one is good. Really, really good. As in, "I'm stopping by Target tonight on my home to buy my own copy" good. That last scene...I get chills just thinking about it. Keira Knightly did a terrific job. And I loved the way they show so much more of the Bennet family. As I said to someone else today, living back then probably sucked what with the much shorter life span and no feminism to speak of, but it might have been worth it to be married to Mr. Darcy and live in Pemberly. : )

Walk the Line is also an excellent movie. I can see why it received so many nominations. Not one I'm going to own, but it's definitely worth renting.

A short entry today as I'm swamped at work and I'm still preparing materials for the class I'm teaching on Saturday at the Arlington Heights Memorial Library, Building A Believable World. I'm excited, but just a little overwhelmed at the moment with my "to do" list.

New Book/DVD Tuesday

I swear until Stacy G. pointed it out a few years ago, I never realized there was a pattern to new DVD/book release dates. They are all on Tuesday. And today is a good one. Pride and Prejudice is coming out on DVD, so I'll be stopping by Hollywood Video tonight to see if I can pick it up. Also, Laurell K. Hamilton's newest work, Micah, comes out today at the bookstore. Both of those things almost make up for the fact that I also have to stop tonight and buy some new work-type clothes. Ugh. I hate clothes shopping. Hate, hate, hate it.

Also, because writing this virtually guarantees that I'll receive a rejection letter today, I'm going to say that I haven't heard anything on my queries yet. : )

Thank you

My thanks to everyone who wrote me and/or commented on my last entry. I appreciate it.

I’ve been trying to figure out whether I should write this entry and if so, how to write it. Mostly I use this blog to talk about random life stuff, funny little things that happen to me, and the bumps and obstacles (as well as the occasional triumphs) I encounter in my life as a writer. So, I don’t know if this is appropriate to write about here or not. But it is part of my life and one of the ways I deal with stuff in my life, particularly not so good stuff, is to write about it. It’s one of the few ways that allows me to actually see what’s going on. Maybe it’s just me or maybe not, but writing about something gives it a reality that it didn’t have before.

A lot of life is in the feeling of it. The pain or joy that marks out a particular day from the ho-hum ordinary of the rest of the week. To ignore the feeling seems wrong. To not write about it seems even more wrong. Writing records that feeling, something that we need to give it even more meaning, I think.

So here it is. I’ll write it and I’ll write it here because it’s probably the only way I’ll convince myself to examine such raw emotion so closely again. I’m not a big fan of confrontation, and Stacey confronting Stacey is rarely pretty.

But first, a disclaimer. I’m writing this for me. I’m not writing this to preach to anyone, to gain sympathy or praise, or to make anyone feel bad for anyone else. I’m writing it because I need to, because I want to memorialize for myself what happened in a manner that I consider respectful.

So, get on with it, Stacey…I’m putting off the confrontation already, can you tell?

I should have known something was wrong when I answered my cell phone last Thursday evening. But unlike the movies, I didn’t have the ominous music to tell me that what I thought was simply odd was actually a harbinger of bad news.

My dad is on the other end of my cell phone. More clues here. First, my dad rarely calls me without some purpose. When I call home, he’ll answer sometimes and we’ll chat, but he doesn’t really call me up just to talk. He’s more of an in-person kind of talker, probably due to his profession (he’s a minister). Second, it's nine-thirty at night. Not late, but not a time for calling just to chat (which, see above, he wouldn’t do.) Third, he's calling my cell phone. My parents both have the number, but their typical pattern is to leave a message at home, assuming that if I’m out somewhere I must be doing something important enough not to interrupt.

But I miss the clues. Instead I blithely chatter away about how our one phone in the house, a cordless, was in my husband’s office so we missed hearing the ring over the sound of the Olympics on television. And I say to my dad, “So, what’s up?” Again, feeling more curious than alarmed.

He proceeds to tell me that he got a call from my Uncle David, my dad’s youngest brother. By now, my dad has said enough words that I know something isn’t quite right with him. His tone is flat and not projecting at all, which, if you know my dad, is the exact opposite of how he normally speaks.

As his words sink in, I feel the first twinge of alarm. My Uncle David is like my dad, I think, not someone who calls up just to have a chat. My first thought is that something is wrong with my Grandma Barnes. She lives in Arizona, which makes my Uncle David in Texas her closest relative in an emergency. My grandma is in fine health—spunky as hell, too—but she also does things like hiking and outdoorish stuff that can get a person hurt. Like me. Even thinking about hiking makes my blister-prone toes hurt.

Now, most people would probably have prefaced the next part of the conversation with, “I have some bad news.” Or, “You might want to sit down.” But my dad doesn’t, partly because he probably realizes that only ramps up the tension and also because he’s probably still reeling with the news so recently given to him.

He says, “Uncle David got a call from your Aunt Cindy’s sister-in-law.”

By now, pieces are starting to fall into place in my head, but they’re making a very confusing picture. The dread in my stomach is increasing, and I can feel myself starting to shake on the inside. Something is wrong, really wrong, I can tell that much. But it’s not my grandma. My Aunt Cindy is married to my Uncle Roger, my dad’s middle brother. Why would Aunt Cindy’s sister-in-law be calling my Uncle David about anything unless…

“It seems your Uncle Roger--” he says.

Boom. Silent explosion in my head. All the puzzle pieces suddenly snap together in a
crazy picture that makes no sense but is unavoidably true.

I make no attempt to hold it together because the shock of the realization is too much in the moment. “Daddy, do I need to sit down for this?” I ask. I realize dimly that I’ve reverted to calling my dad, “Daddy,” something I never do except in high emotion.

Even as he tells me, “Yes,” I’m hoping he’ll say, “No.” That he’ll tell me to “calm down” and that I’m “overreacting.” But he doesn’t. Then I find myself thinking, Maybe it’s just a horrible injury. Maybe he’s just in the hospital. At this point, I’m clearly pursuing the car accident theory, the only explanation I can think of for this kind of phone call about my Uncle Roger, who is only 51 years old and not sick at all that I know of.

But even before my dad speaks again, I know that’s not what he’s going to tell me. It’s not that kind of phone call.

Not one who deals well with change or shock, I’m falling apart on the phone before I even know the details, so much so that my dad says, “You’re not making this any easier.”

So I take a deep breath and try to hold myself together long enough for him to get the rest of the story out. Which he does, very quickly. Probably because he knows the window provided by my tenuous hold on my emotions is very small indeed and maybe because he’s a follower of the ripping off the band-aid theory.

“He was exercising on the treadmill and then went to lay down on the couch to watch some television. When your Aunt Cindy came to get him for dinner, she couldn’t rouse him.”

And right then I realize I’m wrong. The vague theory I developed in the last thirty seconds that not knowing is probably worse than knowing is blown to bits. Hearing it aloud makes it much, much worse.

“They think it was a heart attack, but they’re not sure. We don’t know yet about the funeral services.”

Funeral. God, does that word ever sound more final that when it’s referring to someone you love?

Now, so far, this probably doesn’t seem any different than any other story of someone else who you don’t know who died. But let me attempt to fix that. In my dad’s family, there are…there were three brothers. But, as my dad would say, four boys. My Grandpa Barnes was still a kid on the inside. Christmas at their house with my uncles, my aunts and my cousins was something to be looked forward to for weeks ahead of time. Not just because of the presents, though, of course, those were great, too. But just the atmosphere. It was fun to be around my dad and his brothers and my grandpa and grandma because they clearly loved being together. So much fun and silliness to be had. There was always some new game to try out—the one I remember most clearly involved Barbie-sized basketball hoops that suction-cupped to the table and you had to try to bounce a ping pong ball into one of the baskets score points. I remember my Uncle Roger spending a couple hours at the game table with that one. I also remember a time when I watched enviously from the window (I was ALWAYS sick at Christmas) as my dad and my uncles built the tallest snow man I’d ever seen (like eight feet tall—in fact, it seems to me there was some difficulty attaching the snowman’s head because no one was tall enough) in the backyard. How weird it was to see my dad and his brothers acting like little kids and how jealous I was that I couldn’t go out and participate.

When my Grandpa Barnes died twelve years ago, a lot of the joy left Christmas for me. It was too hard for my grandma after that to have Christmas at her house, so she spent that part of the year in Arizona. My Uncle David and Aunt Lynne had little kids and a long drive if they were to come all the way from Texas. But my Uncle Roger and Aunt Cindy would sometimes make the drive from Kansas to our house for Christmas, and a little of spark of Christmas-that-was would flare again. My Dad and my uncle would joke around and my dad’s mood would take on a rare buoyancy. One of my favorite memories is the time my parents took everyone out to Jonah’s, a seafood restaurant in town, and my Uncle Roger ordered some kind of spicy gumbo, which he loved, and we laughed until tears rolled as he continued to insist he loved it even as he dabbed the sweat from his forehead.

My Uncle Roger was the only other person in my immediate family to have red hair and pale skin. I think that bonded us even further. My mom says that when I was young and we all used to go out together, passers-by used to think that I was his daughter instead of my dad’s. Not too surprising, given that, aside from hair and coloring, he and my dad look a lot alike. He was one of the few people I remember speaking to me like I was a person instead of just a little kid, and, of course, I ate it up with a spoon. All little kids want to be taken seriously.

When I was really little, I think he was the one who brought me a dinosaur hunting license, which I loved. It had all these official rules on it, like only one brontosaurus per hunting season and no females. I still have that somewhere, I think. It fired my imagination, thinking of world in which you could hunt dinosaurs and wondering what that would be like. That license made me feel powerful, special. At his wedding reception, when I was in fifth grade and on the brink of the hormonal hell known as puberty, I stood crying in the corner because I was in the bridal party but no one was going to ask me to dance. But my Uncle Roger, in the midst of all the happy chaos on such a day, stopped whatever he was supposed to be doing and asked me to dance. And he said it was okay when I warned him I would probably step on his shiny white shoes.

And where does all of this lead? To a dim room in the back of a funeral home, filled with the heavy scent of lilies—always funeral flowers to me—and my Uncle Roger, paler and more still than he’d ever been in real life. It was unnerving, not just seeing someone you love dead, which is unnerving enough, but seeing someone who had always been so full of motion and quick to smile and joke being so unnaturally quiet. Empty. And his resemblance to my father was never more shocking than in this situation.

He’s gone and it feels like the world has shifted. Like when you’re drunk and you reach for your glass, but you miss it by an inch because your depth perception is off. Except this time, it only feels like the world has shifted. When I reach for a glass, I get it on the first try. Phones keep ringing. People are still working. Babies are still being born. But the world is not the same. Because I’ve realized, not for the first time, that life isn’t always going to work out the way I picture that it will. Everybody already knows this. Life is inherently unpredictable. Death can be capricious and cruel. We’ve learned this lesson over and over again. But it never seems to stick. I want it to stick. I want to remember so that the next time life knocks me down I’ll be expecting it and maybe it won’t hurt as much. I want to remember so that I’ll appreciate what I have and who I have in my life before they’re taken from me. I want to change my life so that I won’t have any regrets, or fewer of them, at least.

The last time I saw my Uncle Roger was probably six or seven years ago at Christmas time. My husband and I, newlyweds at the time, hung out as long as possible at my parents’ house, hoping to see my aunt and uncle for a few minutes as they arrived and we left for home. I remember we delayed until dark, something we don’t normally do because it’s a long drive as it is and in the dark, it feels even longer. But I wanted to see them.

They arrived just as we were literally starting to pull away. Our dog was already in the car and the engine running. I think I got out of the car and hugged them and said hello and talked for a few minutes. What kills me is that I don’t really remember what we said or how long we talked. Nor do I remember why we had to get back Chicago that night, work or other family obligations possibly, but looking back on it now, I kick myself for not staying just one more night. For not taking one more vacation day. I could have had that one last spark-filled Christmas. And now I can’t. One day, my siblings, my cousins and I will be the only ones around who remember such Christmases existed.

So what am I trying to say? The same thing we all already know. Today might be your last or the last of someone you love. Do something about it. Say “I love you” when you can. Remember that work is not everything, even if you enjoy it or it just consumes you. Appreciate what you have because you will not have it forever. That’s the only guarantee in life.

I say all these words for myself, more than for anyone else. I need to remember all of this, or else I’ll find myself, once again, walking through the dead grass to a new grave with so many things that I want to say and no one to hear them.

Away from the internet for a few days...

I won't be posting this week until much later. I have some difficult family stuff going on. More later...

Stacey

Freaky

So here's the thing, a lot of stuff that sounds practical on paper (for example, communism, arranged marriages, and genetically engineering humans) doesn't always work out so well in practice (everyone gets an equal share of nothing, your parents do not know you nearly as well as you think, and near-sightedness is suddenly a fatal flaw).

This is another one of those things. An ID chip implant is practical, even makes a lot of sense for security. But how long before your boss is using it to figure out if you're really home sick or to track you down on your day off because "this PowerPoint presentation is really urgent."

That being said, figure out a way to make the chip a cell phone/digital camera and people will probably buy in. It's just a further erosion of the line between work and home. It used to be when people went on vacation, they left everything behind. Now, they're searching out fax machines and promising their spouse/kids "just fifteen more minutes" of checking work emails. Ugh. We're going to be owned by corporations one day. They're just figuring out the best way to tag and track us.

I predict, at some point, corporations will start offering "on-campus" living arrangements. Homes and apartments that will be partially subsidized by the company in order to keep their workers close at hand. People will do it because it saves them money, shortens their commute and brings their family closer to the place where they spend most of their time, never realizing that they are growing more and more dependent on an organization that treats them like disposable resource rather than breathing, thinking, living human being.

The value of an idea should not be based solely on its practicality, but what it says about us and does to us as human beings. If not....see Gattaca, Brave New World, 1984, Farenheit 451, etc.

A little rant-y today...sorry! : )

Firefly News/Gossip

Just found this in the Watch with Kristin gossip column on EOnline (she is the absolute best, in my opinion):

From junglejen9: Firefly. You gotta spill it if you have
any additional info, please!

I've heard the CW is considering bringing it back as a series, miniseries or movie for next season. Hurrah! For you who missed my message board posting, on Tuesday, Nate Fillion, Summer Glau and Gina Torres were seen coming out of one of the exec buildings at Paramount, where they are putting together the new
CW unit.

Though, if Joss Whedon isn't behind the wheel on whatever they come up with, I'm not watching. Whenever he leaves someone else in charge, things seem to fall apart (see Angel, later seasons). I almost said "things go to hell. Literally." But I can't remember if they ever made that trip on Angel. Just Buffy as far as I know, right? After she killed Angel, he was sent to a hell dimension if I remember correctly. Of course, on Angel, Connor came from a hell dimension too, and that was a pretty bad season as well.

Also, in case you don't follow tv news as rabidly as some of us, the CW is the new channel that combines UPN and WB programming. C, I believe stands for CBS, UPN's parent company.

Sick again!

I can't believe it. I was finally feeling better on Friday (thank you, antibiotics!), but now all the congestion and coughing has returned. No fever this time, so no more Levaquin for me. : (

Being sick puts me in a foul mood. Not just for being sick. I mean, nobody enjoys being sick. But I'm talking a full-on, depressed-about-everything-which-is-annoying-even-to me kind of funk. Nothing makes me happy. Everything sucks. Except Grey's Anatomy. That second half freaking rocked. And I love being able to read what the writers were contemplating while they were creating the episode. UPDATED: Sorry about that--had the wrong web address for awhile.

Sucky things going on right now:

-Oh, it's Monday, such a very long way from Friday.

-No books on my "must have right now list," though that won't stop me from looking anyway.

-Cough, cough, coughing!

-Annual performance review time. Eeeesh.

-Some funky computer upgrade that threatens my iTunes collection on my work computer. (Yes, Corporate IT people, I like to listen to music while I work. Sometimes I download it. Legally. This is not the same as buying porn. I'm just saying...)

-My utter lack of technological know-how that makes figuring out how to get the music on my iPod onto another computer seem like getting a Ph.D in astrophysics.

-*sigh* Rejection letter(s)

-Did I mention that it's four more days until Friday? And standing between me and Friday is an all-day meeting. One that has required cocktails and hors d'oeurves until 7:30 at night. Yeah. I know, I know, free alcohol and food is nothing to complain about. But at the moment, I feel as enthusiastic about gin and tonic and small talk as I do about scrubbing out the hard water stains on the floor of my shower.

-Having to look up the spelling of "hors d'oeurves" because even with four years of French I can never remember how to spell it and spell check keeps wanting to make it "hoary" which is just a funny-sounding and gross-looking word.

-Realizing I could have left twelve minutes ago and been steadily on my way to laying on my couch in my pajamas and coughing in the comfort of my own home.

Here's hoping tomorrow brings better health and less sucky things!

P.S. Read this in Meg Cabot's blog, confirming my hatred for American Idol is deserved for a whole variety of reasons. They're just so cruel. You'll have to scroll to get to it, but you'll see what I'm talking about.

Future Anthropologist

I caught myself playing “future anthropologist” this week. Does anybody else do that? It’s weird, I know. Here’s how it happens—every once in awhile, as I’m going through life, I’m struck by the absurdity of some of the things we do and how we live, and I wonder how it will look to future generations who will be learning about us through textbooks and archeological digs. Cue the future anthropologist voiceover, which is always British for some reason and usually a female voice. Keep in mind, I watch a LOT of documentaries on archeological digs and tomb excavating, so this is probably why my brain kicks in on this.

This week, it was my ear piercing in my right ear. It’s bugging me for some reason, just very dry skin and tender, and it hurt to put my earring in. So, as I struggled to jab the sharp metal point through my flesh, future anthropologist woman showed up.

“Now, this is interesting,” she says, gesturing to a mummified body (yes, I know we don’t mummify but we would if I had my way) on a table. “As you can see here, even as late as the 21st century, people were still voluntarily piercing their flesh with sharp bits of metal. This ritual, performed mostly on younger girls, symbolized of rite of passage into adulthood and ultimately femininity. It also indicated wealth and social stature—the more valuable the bits of metal and stone used in the decorative piercings, the more money and social class a female was perceived to have.

Then the future anthropologist, dressed in her cute little khaki shorts and blouse, walks over to a wall of faded and curling photos glued to a wall. “Of course, the meaning of the piercing changes with time and the social group that adapts this tradition. In the latter portion of the twentieth century, even males were found to have pierced one ear as a sign of rebellion.” She points to an old People magazine cover showing Harrison Ford with his pierced ear.

“And, of course, piercing multiple times and in unusual locations, such as the eyebrow, the tongue, the breast, the belly button and the genitalia, was considered outside the norm. Both males and females did this to show their disdain for society. Some of them may also have done this to entice a more sexually adventurous mate.” She gestures to a photo of two college girls at a party, beers in hand, sticking their pierced tongues out at the camera. “As you can see in this example, the practice of wearing dead animal skin as a protective layer of clothing was still acceptable.” One of the girls in the photo is wearing a leather jacket.

Then the future anthropologist turns to the camera and smiles. “Next week, tune in for our exploration of ancient machines.” She rests her hand on an old and broken-down looking treadmill. “Twenty-first century humans feared the outdoor elements so much—the weather, the dirt, the possible animal feces—that they created a machine to allow them to run inside…while standing in one place! Truly remarkable.”

“Until then, I’m Xzerthes McmonaXi, your holographic host for The Universal Geographic Channel.”

Yes. I’m weird.

I love antibiotics!

I’m at work for the first time in a week and feeling semi-human again. My voice is slowly returning to normal, and I feel better. I just get tired easily. Some of that is also probably from the out of breath feeling the bronchitis and asthma combination causes.

Not much else is new. I was jonesing for a new book so badly over the weekend—I’d read almost everything in my stack—that I actually drove my husband to ask me, with some weariness, if I wanted to go to Borders…even though it was already after 10:00 p.m. He said he’d drive me and wait in the car. Now that’s love, people. : )

I said no but then bought two books the next day at Target. The big one near our house has a fairly decent book selection.

Still haven’t heard anything from my queries, which is not surprising as not enough time has passed. Right now, my big debate is whether to sign up for the Romantic Times Convention Book Fair. I did it last year and as a brand-new author sold 19 copies. Pretty good, I’d say. But this year, I have no idea what will be going on with my book. If another publisher is interested, I’d have to pull sales of the book and that might leave me with nothing for the book fair. Which would be okay, except I’m sure they don’t like people backing out at the last minute.

Either way, I have to make a decision fairly quickly here and send in my registration for the convention and buy my plane tickets. Florida in May. Hmmm. That’s probably not a great combination for someone who hates to sweat. Hope there’s a pool with lots of shade at the hotel.

Something I never realized...

I never realized exactly how much I talk/sing to myself until I lost my voice today. According to the doctor, I actually have laryngitis--the real thing, not just a hoarse or strained voice. Never had this happen before.

Speaking to other people is obviously a troublesome issue as well. I feel like I'm trapped in that episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer where the creepy fairy tale monsters come and take everyone's voice. I can't even answer the stupid phone. My voice is so faint, I'm not sure the person on the other end would hear me.

Weird thing is because it doesn't hurt or anything, I forget for long stretches of time that I can't talk until I try to speak again!

But the nice doctor (mine didn't look like McDreamy either, Beck, though he wasn't a neurologist!) gave me antibiotics so all should be cleared up shortly, I hope.

Battlestar Galactica is new tonight and I hope a better episode than last week. I thought the Apollo backstory felt really forced and artificial to be coming up this far into the second season. However, it looks like a Starbuck-centric episode tonight, so I'm interested to see what'll be happening. I also have a vintage episode of House tivoing tonight on USA.

Other fun things:

-I'm not the only one who hates watching the judges make fun of people on American Idol. I refuse to watch it because I think that bashing someone's dreams (whether they suck or not) is just an evil thing to do. You can say, "No thanks." Or offer gentle encouragement toward another dream. You don't have to be cruel, though I suppose that wouldn't be good television. Meg Cabot has her own thoughts on this, "nerd persecution," and she says it far better than I. You'll have to scroll a little on her entry to find this, but the whole thing is, as always, worth reading!

-How cool is this?!? Check out Megan Crane's (indirect) encounter with the creator/writer of the best show on television, Shonda Rhimes (Grey's Anatomy)!!!

-Scroll down this page from Watch with Kristin to find links to blogs for various The Office personnel. Kristin's USA Today article is fun, too.

Home sick

I'm home with the flu. Ugh. I haven't forgotten about posting, but writing/reading about feeling icky isn't fun for anyone!

Hope to feel better soon.

I also have to give you an update on the whole bathroom hygiene entry from last week. The woman who didn't wash her hands in the bathroom? Yeah, I saw her handing out food leftover from a meeting. EW!

I'm tired now. Going to go lay down and watch the Child Star special on A&E. : )

Making mistakes

For the last couple of days, I’ve been stressing and worrying over prepping an email query. Last night, I got everything done, pulled it all together, spell checked everything and then I made my fatal mistake. Because I’m paranoid, I saved the email with its attachments to my draft file in Hotmail while I checked out one last little fact. After I got confirmation of the fact in question, I returned to Hotmail, pulled the email out of the draft file and sent it. And then immediately realized that, for whatever reason, when you save a draft in Hotmail, it drops the attachments. So, yes, the query email that I’d spent so much time and energy on went to the publisher without the required attachments.

I quickly sent another email with the attachments and I hope it won’t reflect too poorly on me. Or that they won’t accidentally delete the email with the attachments as a duplicate. Ugh. I hate this. Querying is hard enough. I don’t need technology tripping me up. And yeah, I could have used my other email account (I only have four of them), but of course, I didn’t know that Hotmail suffered from this flaw until after I made the mistake.

All that kept running through my head last night was that line from that movie with Matt Damon and Clare Danes that was a John Grisham book first. “They say you make twenty-five mistakes when you commit a crime, but you’ll be lucky if you remember five.” So, now, of course, I’m wondering if I screwed up other stuff in the query as well. Oh, I’m so tired right now…

Going to work early

Things that suck about going to work early:

Getting up when it’s dark. If God had meant for us to get up when it was dark, then He would have made it light earlier. Or something like that.

School buses on the road. Yes, I understand that people do not want their children getting run over by cars passing the stopped school buses. But surely they can understand the frustration of being trapped behind a bus that stops for a small cluster of children every fifteen feet!

It’s cold. Enough said.

Suffering through almost FOUR hours to get to lunch instead of my normal hour and a half.

More traffic.

Early morning meetings—this is the only reason I ever go in early.

People who are cheerful when they are both up early AND at work. One or the other might be understandable; the combination I’m fairly certain is a sign of being an evil robot with plans for world domination.

Things that don’t suck about going to work early:

Seeing the sun rise in these beautiful shades of deep red and purple through the windows of my writing room.

Writing as much as I can in a shorter time than normal—it’s a challenge. Not one I’d like every day but it’s interesting sometimes because it forces forward progress.

Getting out of work early, of course! Which, in this case, facilitates my going to see Underworld: Evolution with Stacy G.

Two pieces of rye toast and a carton of no pulp orange juice from the cafeteria. Yum!Normally all the breakfast stuff is put away by the time I get in.

A parking place in front of the building I actually work in instead of halfway across campus.

Random Stuff

Hypochondriac much?
I have to stop watching medical shows. Lately I’ve been watching the National Geographic Channel and TLC, both of which have programs like Medical Incredible, Mystery Diagnosis and The Man Without Skin. On top of this, two of my very favorite programs at the moment are Grey’s Anatomy and House (which has just disappeared because of American Idol, which I hate with a passion—what is up with that?) All of this convinced me that my normal stomachache yesterday (well, normal for me, it’s a weird little pain that nobody else seems to get but it’s been happening to me about once or twice a year for close to twenty years) had to be a bleeding ulcer. You know, like the one that patient with the annoying family had on Grey’s? And the woman that Chase killed on House? Yeah. Less television, more peace of mind.

Rant on bathroom hygiene…
Ladies, you’ll appreciate this. Yesterday, upon entering the bathroom, I nearly collided with a woman exiting the stalls. We did the awkward smile and dance around each other before going our opposite directions. I couldn’t help but notice, though, that she then left the bathroom WITHOUT washing her hands. Aside from the whole grossness factor of that, wouldn’t you wash your hands just for appearance’s sake? I can’t be the only one who pays attention to such things. I’m so never shaking hands with her. Every time I see that woman, I will now think, “There goes that woman who doesn’t wash her hands.”

Also, I know the practice of “hovering” garners much debate, but regardless of how you land on this issue (ha!) I think we can agree that those who hover should take a lesson from men and learn to aim just a little better. Or at least clean up after yourself. Good grief. I’ve used a men’s bathroom in a fraternity house (long story) and seen cleaner stalls. Also? They put those paper toilet seat covers in the stall with you for a reason. Hovering is really not required.

Book stuff
No news on the query front yet, but it’s early still.

Have to run now. Need to be in the office by 8:00 tomorrow. Ugh.

I am father's daughter...

...so I found this column from the Chicago Tribune interesting. "That's it! It's God's fault."

Monday Musings...

Four more queries in the mail today. One emailed last week. We'll see what happens. I'm curious to see if there'll be a difference between this time and last. The book is published now (which could either work for or against me) and it has reviews and blurbs to accompany it.

I'm trying the agent route first. Can't hurt, right? I'm contacting some of the various agents I've met and/or communicated with in the last couple of years. All the articles and magazines and such always tell you to go to conferences to meet agents and pitch them, but I've only done that a couple times. I'm a nervous wreck in person. I'm nervous when I'm just mailing the query envelopes! But that truly is the best place to meet them and then, at least, you've got an opening line to your query letter later. It has helped being published over the last year because it takes some of the pressure off. I could talk to them as just a person instead of "THE PERSON WHO COULD HOLD THE FUTURE OF MY CAREER IN HIS/HER HANDS." Yeah. I never said I was normal.

There are also a couple of good publishing companies that I'd like to investigate. So, I'll be working on that as well.

Other good news includes that Becky D. has finished reading her copy of the untitled sequel to The Silver Spoon (which is being called Eye of the Beholder in all my query letters *grin*) and says, "WOW!" Among other things, of course. So, I'm taking that as a good sign!

It has begun...

My title sounds like bad grammar (and it may very well be...), but I'm pretty sure it's a quote from one of the Star Wars movies.

Anyway, I sent out my first email query last night. I've got four more queued up and ready to go. I have a love/hate relationship with email queries. First, because I'm so not technically-adept, I'm always afraid that what looks perfectly fine on my end will come out on the other end with weird formatting and strange little characters in place of the apostrophes. Plus, I use Microsoft Works for writing--I know, I know, I need to switch over--and everyone else prefers Word for attachments and I don't know if that means RTF is okay or not. *Sigh* Hard copy is more time consuming and less environmentally friendly but at least I know what they'll be looking at when they open it.

The second reason I hate sending email queries is also a reason I love them. They're quick. Like, an instant after you send it, it's already there waiting to be read. Which means the worrying about what I wrote and what will they think and have they read it yet commences immediately and lasts for a longer period of time usually. With snail mail, I have to put in the mailbox before mail pick up and then I get to estimate about how long it takes to get to where it's going. Then I imagine that the staff in the mailroom at the agency/publishing company isn't really excited about yet another query letter, so they probably don't rush around delivering these things at a run or anything. So, it probably takes a day or two to reach the desk of the assistant or whatever. And then from there on, who know? But you can see that with snail mail I queries, I get almost a week to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment and bravery before the worry kicks in. On the other hand, email queries are usually answered much faster!

Heading home now. Will restrain myself from checking my email more than seven or eight times tonight : ) At some point this gets easier right? This is only really my third time through this process and while I know more about my role in it, I'm still this dangerous mix of nervous and excited about the whole thing.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

The good, the bad and the very ugly...

All right, so here it is: RuneStone is going to be closing. Ugh. Just typing it makes me feel icky. I just found out about it officially last week, though I suspected long before that time. So much so that I’ve already written query letters to other agents/publishers but I haven’t sent them. This is the chance you take with a small press, especially a new small press. It’s a tough business that demands a lot of time and resources, and not all of the companies can make it.

This, of course, means that RuneStone will not be publishing the sequel. Which sucks. Especially because initial feedback from one of my first readers (Stacy G.) is that the story works! It also means that The Silver Spoon could potentially go out of print while I’m trying to find a new home for one or both books.

However, as many people have pointed out (including my husband, my parents, Stacy G., Ed and more), this could also be an opportunity. The Silver Spoon got really good reviews. Several people who are way more accomplished than I am have read the book and said lovely things about it. Both of these things might help convince an agent or a publisher to consider the book. There’s also the possibility of landing an agent or a publisher that will help me reach a larger audience.

So, here we go again. Querying. I was planning to do it this year anyway for a different project, but this is a little trickier. I don’t know, for example, if publishers and agents are mostly against previously published material or not. Obviously, some people (Linnea Sinclair and MaryJanice Davidson, for example) do very well in small press and get picked up by a larger publishing company. But I don’t know what that means for me. I don’t have the name recognition that either of them had as small press authors. Guess we’ll just have to see what happens.

Right now, I’m in the process of revising my query letters, gathering review information, researching agents and collecting author quotes. By the way, if there are any published authors out there reading this who’ve read The Silver Spoon and would be willing to blurb it, PLEASE let me know. Yes, I am shameless, but I could really use the help. : )

Anyway, my goal is to have five letters/emails out by Monday, January 23. I also need to update my Publisher’s Marketplace webpage to let people know that The Silver Spoon is available.

For those who were eagerly awaiting the sequel, I am truly sorry about the delay. I hope, though, that this may mean a general improvement in the availability of my books...eventually. In the meantime, please consider sending me an email with your name and address (either snail or email). I'm going to try to put together a mailing list that I hope will help demonstrate to a publisher/agent that there is interest in the sequel. Obviously, your information won't be sold. It's just to say to the publisher/agent that XXX people are interested in receiving a postcard (or email) about the sequel when it's published.

So, stay tuned...it's going to be an interesting year!

where is Stacey?

Sorry for my absenteeism this week. I've got some stuff going on that's dragging my attention away from my normal routine. Nothing scary. Well, actually, that's not true. It is kind of scary and disappointing, just nothing health-related or anything like that.

I'll keep you posted...

Book List

The eye doctor appointment went just fine the other day. They're always very nice to me over there, despite my weirdness about getting my eyes dilated. It wasn't even that bad this time, the dilating, I mean. And my prescription did not change from last year!!! Not only does this save me money, but it also makes me worry a little less about my eyesight in general. For awhile there, it was in a period of very steady decline. So, to stay the same is excellent.

I also took the opportunity to hand out bookmarks. Hey, you know me, I'm shameless when it comes to book promotion!

Anyway, I finally got a chance to assemble my 2005 Book List. It's by no means comprehensive. These just happen to be the ones that stuck with me...for a good reason. I don't list the ones that still cause me to cringe : ) If you can't say anything nice...well, you know the rest.

Books of 2005

In alphabetical order:

-Tithe by Holly Black

-Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by Ann Brashares (Books 1, 2 and 3…and yes, I know they’re three separate books and called different things but this list is already going to be too long!)

-Avalon High by Meg Cabot

-Princess in Training by Meg Cabot

-Dark Secrets: Legacy of Lies by Elizabeth Chandler

-37th Hour by Jodi Compton

-English as a Second Language by Megan Crane

-Everyone Else’s Girl by Megan Crane

-Revenge Gifts by Cindy Cruciger

-The Good, the Bad and the Undead by Kim Harrison

-Every Which Way But Dead by Kim Harrison

-Abby Cooper: Psychic Eye by Victoria Laurie

-Better Read than Dead by Victoria Laurie

-The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis

-Twilight by Stephenie Meyer

-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling

-Finders Keepers by Linnea Sinclair

-The Cobra and the Concubine by Bonnie Vanak

-Goodnight Nobody by Jennifer Weiner

Sun motivation

It's so much easier to get stuff done when the sun is shining. When the skies are all gray and cold, I just want to curl up on the couch and sleep. I think I must have been something that hibernated in a previous life : )

This weekend, during that brief time of sunshine, I cleaned up part of the yard--dog mess, you know--folded two loads of laundry, and mopped the utility room floor. I also got very brave and emailed my Bitter Pill manuscript to a fellow author and friend (I'm not going to mention her name in this respect unless she's okay with it) because I don't know what to do with it and I very much respect her writing and her opinion. It's always scary sending out something you love that much because you know that the truth, even when spoken kindly, might hurt. : ) But it's time to be brave and make some progress. Either fix it or move on. No more noodling it about.

Speaking of which, I also sent the sequel manuscript to a couple of first readers. So, I'll be holding my breath to hear what they think!

I have an eye doctor appointment tomorrow, so I doubt there'll be a blog. I doubt if I'll be able to even see the computer by the time they're done dilating my eyes. *shudder* I hate that so much. Not being able to see makes me feel helpless and scared. And it never, ever wears off in an hour like they say it will. Ugh.

7 Things Meme

My thanks to Bonnie Vanak for tagging me in on this one. It took me awhile and I had to really think about some of these...

Seven Things to Do Before I Die:
1. Get a book (or more) published with a NY house
2. Be able to work as a full-time writer (in other words, no day job)—just want to see what it would be like
3. Adopt a daughter from China
4. Own and operate a bookstore
5. Live in a small town again
6. Live some place warm, near the ocean
7. Visit Hawaii again (Hey, maybe I can knock out three of these at once by living in a small town near the beach in Hawaii?)

Seven Things I Cannot Do:
1. See a dead bird without flinching and gagging
2. Slow dance without leading (I don’t know, don’t ask)
3. Make myself taller
4. Climb up a rope—I always flunked that part of gym class
5. Go to outer space
6. Visit another planet
7. Get on a plane without worrying about crashing and memorizing the location of the emergency exits

Seven Things That Attracted Me to My Spouse/SO:
1. His eyes, his nose…okay, his whole face : )
2. His sense of humor (usually he’s brave enough to actually say some of the snarky comments I’m thinking)
3. His love for 80s music!
4. His patience
5. His ability to forgive easily
6. The way we just “clicked” when we talked
7. His intelligence

Seven Things I Say (Or Write) Most Often:
1. Um
2. Yeah, well…
3. Well, yeah…
4. Just
5. Like
6. Totally
7. Dude

Seven Books or Series That I Love: (Too many books! I can’t narrow it down to seven only. So here are seven of the many—in no particular order—and I’m focusing exclusively on fiction…)
1. Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich
2. English as a Second Language by Megan Crane
3. Anita Blake series by Laurell K. Hamilton
4. Southern Vampire series by Charlaine Harris
5. Tithe by Holly Black
6. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
7. Circle of Friends by Maeve Binchy (the book is better than the movie)

Seven Movies I Would Watch Over and Over Again (Just seven?!? Okay...):
1. Star Wars: Episode IV, A New Hope
2. Ghostbusters
3. Office Space
4. Serenity
5. Pretty Woman
6. Speed (Keanu Reeves has the most attractive elbows *grin*)
7. Clue! (I still can’t figure out how everyone got to where they needed to be to kill all the people in the various versions)

Seven People I Want to Join In (Be Tagged):
1. You
2. You
3. You
4. You
5. You
6. You
7. And, you guessed it…You.
Basically anybody who’s reading this and wants to participate, I’d love to read what you have to say. Write it in your blog and post a link in the comments or just write it up in the comments section. Have fun!

Random moment of weirdness

Had a very surreal moment last night while shopping at Target. As I was picking up some Caffeine-free Coke and packages of ready-bake cookies (What? Every writer needs motivation!), I caught a glimpse of a guy, probably younger than I am but close to my age, walking down the main aisle. Something about him must have clicked in my brain but didn't register on the conscious level because when he drew closer, I looked again.

He was wearing a clerical collar. A minister's collar. You know, black shirt with the white plastic insert at the throat? I totally gaped at him. He was so...young! And he had sideburns, long ones--like kind of trendy and stuff. I seriously wanted to follow him and ask him, was he a minister or a priest? What was it like being either one at such a young age?

Now, I know there are young ministers. Duh. I mean, you can graduate with a Masters in Divinity by what, age 23 or 24? I even know people from college who've gone on to be ministers. But I've never seen them in collars so it doesn't seem real to me, I guess. All the ministers I've ever known personally and seen in collars have been older than me. Primarily, this means my dad.

So, I ended up sort of keeping an eye out for the young priest/pastor, though I'm not sure what I would have said, had the opportunity arisen. Turns out he was there with a buddy, ANOTHER young priest/pastor type. How do I know? Because this one too was dressed all in black (couldn't see his collar from where I stood, but he was clean-cut and well-dressed, not Goth), and he held a big bottle of that Woolite stuff that's especially made for black clothing. And the funniest thing was they were kind of goofing around and joking, not acting holy at all. Which, hello, I should know better. It always irritated me when people would forget that my dad was a person as well as minister. In other words, he was just as vulnerable to losing his temper and just as likely to joke around as a normal person. But somehow when I saw these young priest/pastor guys, I managed to forget that.

Anyway, all this made me think of the time I went with my dad to the grocery store while he was wearing his clerical collar. I was young, probably in my teens at the time. Both the cashier and the person bagging the groceries referred to my father as "Father." You know, like "Have a nice day, Father." Or, "Thank you, Father." Freaked me out.

I asked him why he didn't correct them. "Father" meant Catholic priest to me(I was neither wise nor worldly enough at the time to have heard of Episcopalian priests who can marry and have children, I believe). And hello, my dad was wearing a wedding ring and I was standing right there--marriage and children are both kind of no-no's for Catholic priests.

He told me that it was a sign of respect, not just for him but for religion in general, and why should he make them feel bad for doing something good? Essentially. He's often said that people are nicer when they see him in clerical collar. Kind of like slowing down when you see a cop car, right? Huh.

Dear fellow commuter,

Hey you, in the silver Toyota? You owe me big. You were driving like a jackass this morning, as I'm sure you're already aware. And yeah, I know it pissed you off when I moved into your lane to prepare for my turn and to get around the slow moving trucks. But did you really need to tailgate me? I was already going 42 in a 35. You wanted to go 50? Too bad. I have learned the very hard and expensive way about speeding more than seven miles over the limit. Unfortunately, my (relatively) cautious driving saved your butt. You jerked into the other lane as soon as the even slower guy got out of the way, but you had to slow down some to do so. Not enough, though. That cop that came whipping around the corner at the intersection? He was totally after you. But you, in the luckiest moment ever, caught sight of him and slowed down just in time. If I hadn't been in front of you, you would have been cruising through that intersection at 50+. And you'd have gotten what you deserved...

I don't care if you speed. I don't. Just don't endanger everyone around you when you do it by riding five inches off someone's bumper. Jackass.

Love,
Stacey

Fun with photos...not mine, but photos nonetheless!

Speaking of clean offices...

I always enjoy seeing what other writers' offices look like. Mine is normally a chaotic mess. Now that it's clean, it's bugging me (this is a common side effect for me when I clean this room, which is why I don't do it very often). Anyway, here are links to a couple of fun blogs, Megan Crane and Jennifer Crusie (another of my favorite authors), where the authors in question give you photographic evidence of the room where they work.

Megan Crane's office looks so cute and cozy. I love it.

Jennifer Crusie's office looks strikingly like mine at the end of a book. "A tornado, you say? No, I'm just in the last fifty pages of the fourth draft of a book that's killing me!" At least, that's what I say to people who ask.

Susan Elizabeth Phillips (another awesome writer and apparently a friend of Jennifer Crusie's) sent a photo to Jennifer's blog. I couldn't think in an office that clean...probably. I guess I wouldn't know for sure, never having tried it.

Hmm, I really need to figure out how to work my digital camera...

Hello, 2006

The sequel to The Silver Spoon is done! Yes, as in done, done. I’m working now to find a cheap copy place to make all my copies to send to my first readers. I finished it on New Year’s Day—a good start to the New Year, I’d say. I’m currently in the “Oh, God, what if it sucks?” stage. So, I’ll be holding my breath for the next month or so as my first readers plow through it. At the moment, it’s 424 pages. At its longest, the page count was 442, but I cut out some chapters already and may have to do more cutting. I feel really good that it’s done, but I’ll feel better when someone else besides me has read it!

This last weekend, I also spent time cleaning up my writing room and finally unpacking the three boxes that have sat in the center of the room since September. I’m actually making plans to hang things on the wall in this house (hear that, husband of mine?), which means I hope that we aren’t moving anytime soon again.

I’m moving on now to do more work on the mystery project and perhaps revisiting Bitter Pill. Yesterday when I was “cleaning” (which really translates to, sitting on the floor and shuffling piles of paper from one place to another), I got sucked into reading my draft of Sleep Tight, the book that follows Bitter Pill. To be sure, there are problems with it, but I still really like it and I love the characters. So, to get to that one, I have to get Bitter Pill out there first. I love that one too!

Last night, I went shopping at my second favorite place to shop—an office supply store! Bookstores are, of course, the first. I suspect that other writers are as entranced as I am by the reams of blank paper, the new pens behind their pristine plastic and oh, all the folders and post-it notes….so many possibilities! So many stories that could be written with these magical tools. Seriously, if you’re ever looking for the perfect gift for a writer, it’s an ink cartridge for her printer and a ream of paper. Or, maybe a really good pen. Not an expensive one, mind you, but one that you’ve tried. It feels good in the hand—no cramping issues—and the ink flows well and looks sharp on the paper.

I also bought a labeler. Yes, I know that’s truly pathetic, considering the disarray in which I spend most of my life. But I couldn’t help it. Labels! That I can make myself! On folders and envelopes and everything!

I’m also beginning to suspect that office supply shopping might be another form of procrastination. You see, now that I have new folders and a labeler, I must spend time organizing and creating labels. Otherwise, it’s a waste of good book money : )

Okay, that’s enough for now. Stay tuned for “Best Books of 2005” list. I’m trying to remember all of them!

Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah!

I'll be taking a few days away from the internet to spend some time with our family and celebrate Christmas. (And, I hope, to finish up these lingering edits!) No matter what holiday you celebrate, I hope you find yourself happily ensconced among loving family and friends with lots of good food within easy reach.

: ) Stacey

Gifts purchased: Some
Cookies baked: None
Christmas cards sent: Yeah, right.

All right, so I'm thirty pages from the end of the sequel, and I'm at a pivotal point. Not just for this book but for the story that follows. I really didn't want to be thinking this hard about book three yet. I wanted to take a little bit of a breather. But I suppose the fact that the end of book two wants to tie in so closely to book three is actually probably a good thing.

I'm sure you're wondering why, if I have a complete draft of book two, am I encountering issues like this? The simple answer is, I chickened out. I knew the conversation (the one I mentioned the other day) would be difficult--one that would leave us teetering on the edge of "is this really going to work out okay in the end?"--and I didn't want to deal with it right then. Zara had just slogged through conflict after conflict, essentially alone, and I thought we didn't want to deal with another one from someone who shouldn't be giving us grief. Except, apparently, I was alone in this thought. So, we plunged in headfirst into the conflict this time around and the trouble is, this repercussions of this conflict are big enough to potentially follow us into book three. Which is okay, except I haven't had a whole lot of time to think about this and sort of test the water to see which way everyone's going to go. And the area this conflict touches upon is more than just a delicate relationship between two people but also the culmination of the series' theme.

The kernel of truth at the heart of the series is the question, what do you do when you're called to be something more than you thought you could be? Something or someone you don't necessarily want to be? Something that will involve sacrifice and pain and making difficult decisions and being selfless. Zara does not want to be the one in charge of our little band of rebel Observers. She feels that she can barely keep her human life under control, how can she be responsible for the fate of others, possibly even the whole world? She just wants to be a good person and have her life go the direction she thought it would. In my mind, it's sort of a twisted version of the story of Moses. Except instead of burning bushes that talk, you get hot aliens with visions and psi abilities who are directing Zara toward her higher purpose. I hope that's not sacriligious. I don't mean it to be. It's just a different sort of interpretation.

Okay, I wrote more on this but had to delete it as it was very, very full of spoilers for book two. Basically, you'd know the end. Probably not the best thing to publicize before the book has even been finished, let alone published. I've got a few days off coming up in the next week or so and I hope to get through this last little bit of editing!

Anyway, here's something fun to do. Go to Barnes and Noble online and check out the list of bestsellers in the upper right hand corner. Yeah. It freaked me out for a second, too. But unfortunately, my book is not published by Phaidon Press, nor is it a cook book. But it's kind of fun to look at, right?

One more down...

Another chapter is finished. That means only three to go and I'm already working on one of them, so really only two after the current one. Yea! On Saturday, I managed to get through a difficult conversation between Zara and Caelan that I'd ducked out on in the previous draft. I told myself that she'd let a particular remark slide, due to the surrounding circumstances not being right for a giant discussion, but she has overruled me. : ) And the scene and chapter are better for it. So, I'll keep working away. I'm excited to be this close to the end. Getting through that difficult conversation was a major hurdle for me, so I'm feeling good that's done.

ButI don't have any Christmas gifts purchased, Christmas cards are a distant dream on my to do list, and I have a cookie exchange tomorrow for which I've baked no cookies. *sigh* Yeah. This week is going to be a little tricky.

Here are some fun links to check out:

-Woolly Mammoth Park. It could happen. I'd probably even pay to visit, as long Newman wasn't in charge of security and all. Best quote in that movie?

Dr. Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum): "God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs..."

Dr. Sattler (Laura Dern): "Dinosaurs eat man. Woman inherits the earth..."

-I read somewhere recently that in order to attract their target audience (women, primarily), the marketing folks for Brokeback Mountain looked at movie posters for 50 of the most romantic movies of all time for inspiration in creating their movie poster. Titanic, it turns out, was a huge inspiration. I, despite having seen that movie and wept over it despite my irritation with the end (hello?!? An entire ship went down and there was only one person-sized, floatable piece of wood out there?), could not remember what the poster looked like to save my life. So, I did a little research. I found it interesting to see what similarities the marketing folks picked up on and how they chose to use them. I mean, most people wouldn't even probably notice the likeness, but I wonder if it has a subconscious effect. I bet it does. So, here you go, have a look for yourselves:

Titanic movie poster

Brokeback Mountain Movie poster

-Also, am I the only one willing to admit a junior high/early high school obssession with the works of V.C. Andrews? Oh, goodness, they were like soap operas in print. People sleeping around, sometimes with siblings (Ick!), evil or absent parents, tragic pregnancies and even more tragic miscarriages--I'm sure I'm glossing over the weirdness of them, but for some reason, I was utterly entranced by these novels. Flowers in the Attic was the first one I read. And yet, knowing exactly what happens in that book, I was totally squicked out by the new cover I saw on it at Target the other day. Here is the old cover you might be familiar with. Here is the new cover. Chris and Cathy are siblings, people. As in, incest! Am I the only one weirded out by this new romantic cover photo being used to sell incest as romance?!?

Snowing...again

This is the time of year that I always question my choice of living here. More snow. Ugh. It's pretty and I love it...as long as I don't have to go anywhere. But snow inevitably falls during rush hour, either to or from work and in some cases both. Sure, Hawaii has the occasional lava flow but I'm thinking if that affects your commute, you probably need to move a little farther away from the volcano. And possibly start looking for some help from Pierce Brosnan...

Anyway as a distraction from the crummy weather, I found a couple of fun things--

Meg Cabot's opinion on seeing Brokeback Mountain, which made me laugh:

"I will be breaking my long-standing policy of not seeing movies with purportedly tragic endings in order to watch BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN (aka the “gay cowboy movie”). I urge you to see it as well, and not just because it co-stars THE PRINCESS DIARIES’s Anne Hathaway and RANDY QUAID. Even though, as my brother Matt put it this weekend, there is only one “crying show” allowed per week--and that show is, of course, EXTREME HOME MAKEOVER--I think it’s very, very important to support movies in which hot guys kiss each other.

Especially if one of them is Heath Ledger."

She also hates stories with talking animals. Finally, I'm not alone!!! I can't watch most of the Disney movies anymore because they insist on making animals talk. Now, that being said, my husband loves to point out that my two favorite Disney movies, The Little Mermaid (which I know is so wrong from the original fairy tale but come on, she has red hair!) and Beauty and Beast (Belle loves books!) have talking fish, crustaceans and normally inanimate objects like teapots. But that, somehow, is acceptable to me. I believe he thinks I'm splitting hairs at this point, but I stand firm : )

Also, Megan Crane has pinned down exactly what makes revising a book so difficult and why writers feel compelled to keep writing. Check it out here. I love finding this stuff, especially when it so perfectly describes how I feel and it's from an established, successful author (two books out, third on the way and I believe writing is her full-time job). Makes me feel less alone when I'm out there chasing the elusive perfect book that's in my head. What she says is absolutely true. The book in your head has so many exciting possibilities, so many scenes that will never make it to paper or to the final draft. That's probably why I always end up writing books in a series. I can't let go after just one. : )

Sorry you're not getting very much original content these days : ) I'm still struggling with the last few chapters of the sequel and I'm pretty sure everyone is tired of hearing that same sentence over and over again. Unfortunately, that's the main thing dominating my attention at the moment. I promise a return to new and original thought (well, as much as there ever was here to begin with) as soon as this @#$#@$% book is done. *beatific smile*

Stacey blah, blahs about current projects...and fun stuff (at the end!)

Another chapter completed in the sequel edit! That means I've only got four more to go, and I'm already working on the next one. I knew these would take the longest. With the one I just finished, I ended up only keeping a little bit of the original text, so that meant about twenty pages of rewriting.

I've been trying to teach myself techniques to move more quickly from book to book, as some other writers do. But I find it difficult. Half the fun for me is not knowing what's going to happen, so if I plan or analyze too much, it ends up being more of a chore than anything else. Unfortunately, writing without planning means I find my footing about halfway through the book and the end does not really resemble the beginning of the story in anyway. So, therefore, I consign myself to extensive rewriting and revising on nearly every book. The only exception to this has been the manuscript for Bitter Pill. That one originally came up very short, under 100 pages, and I knew it would. I could see where there were gaps in the story. So, going back in and adding subplots and scenes was relatively easy.

Don't get me wrong, I love the sequel, but I'm eager to move on to something fresh and new. I have a new Rennie idea that I'd love to explore, but I'm thinking I should put that on hold until I actually sell the first book in that series. Honestly, I haven't really tried. Sent out only four query letters, and then got preoccupied with the sequel. Plus I realized revisions were needed. But I already have a draft of the second book in the series completed (also needs revisions), so writing a third at this point might not be the wisest use of my time--though, I will do it eventually because I just love visiting Morrisville : ) What do you think about the twist of referring to her as an obituary writer (which she is) versus just a freelance writer (which is also true. She's a freelance writer who spents most of her time writing tribute articles, which are basically expanded obituaries)? I'm thinking obituary writer might have more of a hook to catch potential interest. What do you guys think?

Mystery project is up next for revisions, and that's another one that's likely going to be tough to revise. Ugh. I'm working on bits and pieces of an outline, but since the idea involves very familiar types of characters, I'm working very hard to make sure these characters are different enough from what's already out there.

I've also got a fun idea for a YA novel, but we'll see where that goes.

And now...the aforementioned fun stuff:
-Check it out--Pat Kirby and Crissa Chappell have both responded to the meme from last week. You may have to scroll down to reach it. As always, I'm not prompt with my linking.

-Has anyone seen Brokeback Mountain? It may not be out until next week, I can't remember. I'd like to see it, but I've heard that ending may not be a particularly happy one. Therefore, I need to judge whether it's worth going to see and getting all upset over it : ) I don't like movies with unhappy endings unless they're really, really good movies and even then, I will only ever watch the movie once. So email me and tell me about the movie, but especially the end so I know what I'm getting myself into.

-New Battlestar Galactica episodes return on January 6!

-Check out this new book, Valiant, that I found on Barnes and Noble. Sounds kind of interesting but I'm hesitant to spend the money on a hardcover for an author I don't know. Anyone read this book or this author before? (The link I'm providing is to the excerpt which is pretty interesting, I think.)

-Also, when you have a second or you're bored at work (I'm sure that never happens to you!), check out this site: happynews.com. It's only happy news. After weeks (well, let's be honest, months) of surfing cnn.com and msnbc.com on a daily basis, this site was a relief. And it's a cool idea, I think.

Sometimes, I get all hamstrung trying to think about what to write in here. I have so many things that I can't talk about (for various reasons), which are, inevitably, the things I want to talk about. I hope to be able to talk about those things eventually, but not yet. And there are things that I'm sick of writing about, mainly because I'm tired of hearing myself whine about said things.

So, here is just a list of good things that have happened in the last few days:

-Bonnie Vanak tagged me with the book meme yesterday. It made me remember how much fun RT was last year and realize how much I'm looking forward to seeing Bonnie and everyone else again. It sounds dumb, but sometimes being a writer is lonely and hard. Not the fun stuff, like signings and book release parties--those are great but not nearly as frequent as one would like! I'm talking about the toiling away day after day on a book or story that may or may not ever be good enough to be published, and even if it is, it may not earn you much, if any, money. Sometimes you just need to be around other people who are infected with that same strain of craziness. : )

-I tagged Megan Crane (among others) with the meme and she responded with answers that are as cool and interesting as I suspected they would be. Check it out here... Scroll down to yesterday's entry.

-My husband made pancakes on Sunday morning and woke me up to join him in the eating of them.

-Meg Cabot wrote a touching and still funny entry about the death of her grandfather, telling a WWII story about him, which reminds me of the WWII story (I think, it might also have been Korea, I'll have to ask) about my grandpa. He signed up for additional flight hours with another crew that needed him (he was a bombadier, I believe), and therefore, had too many flight hours when his own crew went out. So, he had to stay behind. His crew ended up crashing and dying. My grandpa, by helping out that other flight crew, saved his own life.

I miss my grandpa. He always made Christmas fun. He used to pretend to forget my name. "That's right, uh, Henrietta!" "No, Grandpa." "Oh, oh, it must be Georgina, right?" "No!" It would get howls of laughter from me, especially with the wackier names he came up with. This is also the man who told me I should eat my toast crusts because "it'll put hair on your chest." *grin* He had three sons. I was the first granddaughter.

-There's a new Veronica Mars on tonight!

-I read a fun new book over the weekend, Revenge Gifts by Cindy Cruciger, while relaxing in the sunshine in my favorite reading chair. It's a harvest gold, velvet (or velveteen) living room chair that my in-laws gave us to help us in our quest for furniture when we were first married and that I now refuse to get rid of or reupholster because I love the texture of the fabric so much. I would take a picture, but eh, you guys know how that'll go.

-I hemmed my own pants this morning! My boot heel pulled the old hem out and I've been meaning to fix it for weeks. Now, deciding to do so about fifteen minutes before I'm due to leave for work probably wasn't the brightest idea, but I'm fairly proud of myself.

-The Triangle doesn't suck. At least, the first part didn't. Though, being an SG-1 fan, I had their mysterious theory behind the existence of the Bermuda Triangle pegged within the first fifteen minutes, but oh, well. : ) Also, Ed, I saw an episode of Family Guy the other night and laughed hysterically. I think I finally get what you've been talking about.



Okay, I think I'm tapped out. : )

Book Meme--I've been tagged!

My friend, author Bonnie Vanak tagged me for a book meme. I'm so excited! I'm supposed to give you fifteen facts about me and books. By the way, I don't know if I ever mentioned this before, but if you love historical romances, you will LOVE Bonnie's books. I'm very particular about the historical romances I choose to read (mostly because I'm a sci-fi/paranormal gal these days, though that wasn't always the case), and I thoroughly enjoyed The Cobra & the Concubine. If you want to see for yourself, check out the love scene excerpt on her web site. Wow. *grin*

Okay, so fifteen facts about me and books:

1) I get nervous and/or edgy when I don't have a "next book" lined up to read. It can't be just any book lying around my house and believe me, there are plenty. It has to be the right "next book." Don't ask me--I just know when I find one that feels right. Sometimes, in order to encourage myself to write more of my own stuff, I deny myself a "next book." At least until it starts to get to me and then I cave. : ) Seriously, there are times when I'm jonesing for a book so badly I will actually buy one at the Jewel!

2) My very first favorite book that I can recall was Go, Dog, Go. I loved the dog party in the tree.

3) Most of the time, I buy books because of the author, not the story. Occasionally, a new author will sneak in there because I've heard good things (Megan Crane is a recent example), the back cover blurb sounded interesting or the cover caught my eye. But most of the time, I'm looking for someone I already know I can trust to take me away and bring me back safely...if that makes sense. That doesn't mean bestsellers always or even usually. Nor does it mean that it's the same five people. I've got about a hundred "favorite" authors. *grin*

4) In my pre-teen/early teen years, I used to sneak into the basement where my mom kept her pile of romance novels and seek out the Silhouette Intimate Moments and Harlequin Temptations (I think those were the specific lines) just to read the "good" parts. : )

5) As a kid, I so wanted to be Trixie Belden. She had moxie. I liked Nancy Drew, too. She was the first character I remember reading about who had red hair. At least, once I figured out that's what "titian" meant.

6) Thanks to reading so many books and my subsequent lack of social interaction (ha!), my vocabulary often outpaces my pronunciation skills. My family still likes to tease me about my childhood pronunciation of lingerie, facade and soldered (ling-eree, fa-kade, and sol-dered).

7) I read very quickly, especially when I'm enjoying the book. I can, and have, finished two books (200 or 300 pages each) in a day. I don't do this very often as it gets very expensive!

8) I cannot read more than one book at a time. You can imagine how well this worked when I was an English major in college. If my interest is caught by another book while I'm still in the middle of reading the first, then I never finish the one I was reading to begin with. I have more than a few that have just stopped at a certain point.

9) Jane Austen kicks ass. 'nough said.

10) When I was younger, my favorite romance novelists were Kathleen Woodiwiss, Judith McNaught, Jude Deveraux, and Barbara Delinsky.

11) 99.9% of the time, I have a book with me. Even if you can't see it, I have it. It's in my bag or in my coat pocket or in my car. My husband loves to tease me about the time in college when we drove to the grocery store for something and he busted me with a novel sticking out of my coat pocket, like I thought there'd be time to read in the check-out line!

12) For me, the feeling of a good book just waiting to be read feels like anticipation of an amazing meal. It's like a sensation of fullness and satisfaction before I've even opened the cover. Unfortunately, when it's finished, that's when you're hungry for more!

13) Confession time...I did not read very much traditional sci-fi as a kid, or even now. Not much Asimov or Heinlein or any of those guys. To me, they never had the people aspect I was looking for. I like character stories. And romance. Real romance where it's a part of the story, though not necessarily the whole thing. As a kid, I loved Star Trek novels, however, and totally committed myself to geekdom by reading them openly in high school. My favorites were by Peter David, who is hysterical. Well, if you like and understand Star Trek, he's hysterical. I'm not sure it translates to so-called "normal" people. *grin* Linnea Sinclair does an awesome job of creating character-driven sci-fi romance, so that's who I read these days!

14) I do not crack the spine or bend the pages of a book. Any book. Even ones I don't like. Apparently, this makes people very nervous to borrow books from me. : )

15) Books that do a heavy and detailed lead up to a sex scene and then consummate the relationship in a very generic sentence or two drive me crazy!!! In some books, a detailed sex scene isn't appropriate. It just strikes the wrong tone. But there are others, ones where they've built up such momentum in moving toward this moment that it seems like the author chickened out when it ends so anti-climactically (ha!) Writing a sex scene can be difficult, I know that, but I hate it when a book takes the easy way out.

Okay, so now I'm going to tag other authors, which is, I think, how this is supposed to work. I'm picking people, some of whom I know and others I only know through their journals, but they're all people I'm interested in reading what they have to say. We'll see if they respond. : )

Pat Kirby, Crissa Chappell, Megan Crane and Marianne Mancusi--come on down!!!

Monday

A random assortment of things...

-Meg Cabot wrote an awesome entry on Friday about the 58% happy ending, a theory I completely subscribe to. Which you probably already know. I also love what she has to say about literary fiction. The reason she doesn't read it is the same reason I don't (i.e. real life is tragic enough, why would I want to read about more sad/bad/depressing stuff?) You'll have to scroll down a little to find this entry on her site (Friday, December 2) because I'm not as prompt in my linking as I should have been. Also, she has a couple new books coming out at the end of this month that look like such fun! Size 12 Is Not Fat and Avalon High. Sadly, no excerpts for either as far as I can tell.

-I had to honk at three people today. Once, when a car turned left in front of me. And then twice more at two different intersections when someone sat there and sat there and sat there at a GREEN light. I don't actually like honking, except in life-saving instances, obviously. But today, apparently, no one would be able to tell that.

-Have you ever noticed how certain words suddenly come into vogue and then you're hearing them everywhere? This is the one I've been hearing and reading lately. Most recently, on Desperate Housewives last night. I swear, I'd never heard this word until probably the last month or so and now I see and hear it everywhere. And I consider myself fairly Yiddish-aware. Huh. Anybody else noticing this phenomenon?

-My day job has apparently decided that Janet Evanovich's website is too tawdry to be viewed during daylight hours. Funny, too, because it's my friend and fellow author Bonnie Vanak's blog that always has me frantically scrambling for the downsize button on my browser when I'm at work. She puts pictures of scantily clad men in her blog entries--can't go wrong there, I guess! : ) (The link is to her website, which is acceptable for workday viewing. Click on her blog at your own risk *grin*)

-Anybody going to watch The Triangle on Sci-Fi tonight? I'm a sucker for shows like this, particularly if it involves finding eerily abandoned or submerged planes or boats. Plus, it's directed or produced or something by Bryan Singer, the guy who brought us X-Men and X-2, which I liked. The second one particularly. Sadly, though, he will not be at the helm for X-3 because he ditched the mutants for another movie about the most famous alien superhero.

-Good progress was made this weekend on the mystery project. I am, however, still stuck on the plot. Which kinda sucks. I also finished editing another chapter of the sequel. Only five more to go!

-I'm also a little concerned about this. Wearing vials of blood and Billy Bob Thornton aside, I've kinda liked what I've read about A.J.'s parenting theories. She's adopted internationally twice, which I think is a terrific thing to do and would love to do at some point in the future myself. Plus, I remember there being a to-do about some interview last year or the year before where the media made a big deal out of how she said she handled relationships with men as a single mother. Basically, what she said was that she didn't want to bring a string of dates home and, um, entertain them overnight as she feared that might cause hurt and confusion to her son. So, instead, she'd meet these dates out somewhere and address her, uh, needs away from her home. I thought this actually seemed like a fairly responsible and grown up way to handle this issue, though clearly not an option for most single parents who don't have full-time nannies or whatever to care for their children at the drop of a hat. So, you know, I hope she's maintained that sensibility and plans for some kind of permanent relationship with Brad. Otherwise, any respect I had for her will just be gone...well, whatever respect was left after watching the Tomb Raider movies. Eesh.

Good news...

In my effort to be as depressing as possible earlier this week (I managed even to annoy myself with that one), I totally forgot to share some good news. A couple of weeks ago, I contacted the organizers of Writers' Institute at UW-Madison. I love this conference. I've gone every year for the last four years, and I always learn something new and come back feeling re-energized and ready to write. I submitted a couple workshop ideas to them, and they accepted! I'm so excited!!! Not just because it's the opportunity to teach, which I love, but also because it's for this particular conference, one that has done so much to help me. I don't know yet which class/session will be offered, but I'll post it here, when I know.

I also received an email this week, inviting me to speak at the Arlington Heights Library in March or April. Yea! More details to follow...