Phew! The green sauce, chimmicurri, and the salsa for the enchiladas are done. All I have to do tomorrow is a little minor prep, assemble the enchiladas, pop them into the oven, and chill out with a margarita while I wait for my guests to arrive. I'm using a Tyler Florence recipe and it's kinda cool because it uses a rotisserie chicken... I don't have to cook it, it's done. It's kind of unnerving though, because I didn't try it before hand to see if it's any good, and I usually like to know. I'm trying to take a more relaxed approach to life. It's completely against my nature.  =)

There is a spectacular thunderstorm going on outside. I love it. It's been going on for hours now, off and on. I love the sound of the thunder as it rumbles and shakes the house. I love the flashes of lightning that streak across the sky. I love the rain. Thunderstorms are awesome.

I'm worried about the dog though. A cute little doggie greeted me earlier this afternoon. It came right up to me, I gave it some attention and it tried to follow me into the house. I always worry about animals, whether they have a home or not. It didn't look emaciated, and it had a bobbed tail, so I'm guessing it does, but it was shaking. I'm a softie. It's how I ended up with my cats.

I am so torn. I just finished Frostbite, the second in the Vampire Academy series by Richelle Meade. It's YA, but it's pretty good. So now I am ready for a new book, and I have three books, by three of my favorite authors, and I don't know which to read first.

First there is Heart and Soul by Maeve Binchy. She has this amazing ability to introduce several characters that seem completely unrelated, yet by the end of the book, they all come together with some common theme. Her stories are a little sad sometimes though... okay most of the time. Her most famous book is probably, A Circle of Friends, because it eventually became a movie with Minnie Driver and Chris O'Donnell.

Then there's South of Broad by Pat Conroy. He is one of the best storytellers I think I have ever had the pleasure to read. Most of his books incorporate some aspect of his own life, most especially his childhood in South Carolina. He's the reason I want to go there someday and visit. His most famous book is probably, The Prince of Tides which became a movie starring Nick Nolte and Barbara Streisand.

Finally, The Law of Nines, by Terry Goodkind. He wrote The Sword of Truth series, which I absolutely love. It was turned into a television series called The Legend of the Seeker, directed by Samuel Raimi, and I happen to like it a lot. Kahlan kicks ass! This book is a little different, but I'm looking forward to it. I think I am going to read it first, but it really is a tossup.

And, speaking of the Seeker, I found a promo for season 2!

 
My bucket list, still a WIP (that's writer lingo for 'work in progress,' she said snark-astically):
  • Ride a horse
  • Skiing
  • Ice skating
  • Sleigh ride
  • Grand Canyon or any of the other national parks (American Orient Express?)
  • Go to Maine
  • Take a windjammer cruise
  • Go to New York
  • See Niagra Falls
  • Go to South Carolina
  • Ride a train
  • Go to England
  • Go to Italy
  • Go to Greece
  • Go to Germany
  • Go to New Zealand
  • Go to Australia
  • Go to France
  • Take a helicopter ride
  • Ride in a hot air balloon
  • Go white water rafting
  • Build a house with Habitat for Humanity
  • Get Harley Quinn tattoo
  • Visit dude ranch
  • Pet a wolf
  • Parasailing
  • Canoing
  • Wine tour
  • Take a cruise
  • See the sequoias
  • Play golf
  • Go to Washington DC
  • Daytona
  • Kentucky Derby
  • Olympics
 
The house is clean. At least until the dust settles and the cats shed all over the rugs. It's almost embarassing how accomplished I feel once I've cleaned the house. And how much better it makes me feel. Clutter makes me antsy. I sound obsessive, don't I? I promise you, I'm not. I've pared down in the last few years and that's made it easier for me to give the appearance of order. Cleaning the house pays off quickly because it really doesn't take very long. Just don't look in the closets.

Today I was thinking about the upcoming dinner party. It made me think of my friend Christa, who used to throw the best parties. She made it seem effortless. Whether it was really the case or just the appearance she gave, she didn't seem to sweat the small stuff. The atmosphere was relaxed, the food was delicious and everyone had a good time. Most of the time she'd still be cooking when people arrived, or maybe that was because I always arrived a little early. She helped me grow in more ways than she'll probably ever know. I never had the courage to dance in front of other people until Christa coaxed me onto the dance floor; literally and metaphorically.

I love to cook. I love to have friends over. Unlike Christa, it does make me anxious. I think it's because, until recently, I was too focused on 'the rules.' The way I grew up was... mom invited people over... they showed up... we ate. There was a lot of stress involved in the preparation because everything had to be perfect. I'm trying really hard to break the cycle. To relax. Eventually I'd love to invite people over and still be getting things ready when they show up. Maybe even involve them in the process. I think that cooking with other people is fun. Right now though, I try to have it all done before they arrive, because I don't want them to see me freaking out. I'm getting there. I don't feel the same tension I did about the last dinner party. I'm still a work in progress. Until recently I was so afraid to screw up that I never invited people over at all... not for dinner anyway.

As you can tell, I do a lot of introspection... I like to understand why people act the way they do, even myself... maybe especially myself. Sometimes I worry that it makes me sound pathetic because I admit to all my neuroses, but mostly I think that a lot of people have the same questions, the same hangups, the same doubts, and they appreciate when other people admit to them. I always do, it makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only one.

Yesterday I fell off the wagon. I had two sodas because I thought the carbonation might make me feel better. Being nauseous, I also didn't hop on the treadmill. I did stick to the food part, and being queasy certainly helped me cut calories. Tonight I'm back on the horse, one soda, stuck with the food, and I'm about to hop on the treadmill and burn some calories. Crisis averted. =)
 
My tummy hurts. I got up this morning and there was a tight feeling under my ribcage and I had a slight sense of vertigo. I always feel guilty about taking off work, especially since I've been out more than usual to meet repairmen at the house, so I stuck it out for three hours before I came home. Then I slept. Then I ate. Then I regretted it for a while.

At the moment I feel a little better. It comes and goes. I hope that by tonight it's gone altogether.

I was going to print out the snail mail queries and get going on that, but ultimately realized that I need to revamp my query letter first (pun intended). I've gotten four rejections from this latest batch of queries. Most were form rejections, one was a rather snarky, "Alas,this is not for us. SO sorry." And maybe that was sincere, but as a smartass, I sense one of my own (and I don't appreciate it).

In the meantime I finished incorporating more edits last night, so I printed another proof. I talked to another writer yesterday and she brought up the issue of backstory, so I need to really take a look at that. My first couple of chapters take place in the past, but it's hard to chop them up and sprinkle them throughout the story without making it feel disjointed... and I can't get rid of them altogether because there are things in there that play into this book and the next. I tried not to include extraneous information. I've read articles that claim backstory slows the reader down, I'm not sure it's always wrong to do it though. There are a lot of 'rules' out there, it's hard to know which ones are musts and which are preferences.

It is incredibly difficult to write because there will always be flaws in your story, and the flaws will vary according to the person reading it. You have to choose when to make changes and when to stick to your guns. The goal is to end up with something better, something you feel comfortable with. So I'll save it to a new file and see what happens.

So to summarize: Today, not a great day. It is raining, and that's good. We need it, and I like it... rain makes me happy. But I don't like feeling like crap. And I don't like rejection. Blogs can't always be happy.  =)

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A moment of whining and then I'm going to take a bubble bath and go to bed...

I've been wallowing for the past couple of hours. I attempted to edit, to incorporate the back story, and it turned into a massacre. I gave up, because every line I read made me cringe, suddenly everything I had written sucked. It was one of those days. I've had them before, and they pass, but they're painful. It's like getting my hair cut... I should lock the scissors up when I get home... and on days like today I should not touch my novel.

The revised query letter that I was so proud of was slashed to pieces in the Absolute Write forum (despite my whining I am thankful to complete strangers for sharing their knowledge and trying to help me better my letter, and they were nice about it). The good news is that I may be closer to having a synopsis written than I thought... I'm just that much further away from a query letter. I am thoroughly disheartened. And overwhelmed by it all. I feel like a complete and utter failure. A spectacular failure. And I feel naive because I felt pretty good about what I was doing. Now I wonder if I've totally shot myself in the foot by sending out query letters when I'm so obviously unprepared.

I know writers are supposed to have thick skins, but I don't. Not all of the time. Definitely not today. My head isn't in the right place for this and I'm overly sensitive because I don't feel well. Everything's so jumbled up that my head feels foggy and I'm mentally restless. Tomorrow will be better... I'll get back on track, I just need to get through today first.
 
I take a break from writing... to write... god I'm an addict - somebody call Intervention and give them their most boring show ever.

Wanna hear a secret? I made a baby last night. Yep. On Bebo. She's adorable. Her name is Penelope and she's just a joy to have around... already sleeping through the night... never makes a fuss. In fact, most of the time she just sits there and stares at me with her big, green, anime eyes. She never blinks... or moves for that matter... Penelope's kind of boring, actually. Truth be told, I worry about Penelope's development. She doesn't seem to take an interest in much of anything (not even my best material) and I don't know what's become of her dirty diapers... because I haven't been disposing of them... Hope she's not eating them, but if she is... that might explain why her eyes are so big... Gah, that went downhill fast...

Day two - success. One soda, all food from the book, and in a couple of hours I will get on the treamill. Baby steps.

So... as I was editing, I remembered that I was going to talk about one very important thing I learned during the process of writing this book - never throw anything I've written away. I used to delete, delete, delete, and I can't tell you how many times I ended up regretting it. Just because something doesn't work in one place doesn't mean it's worthless - maybe you can change it up and move it to another location in the story, or it might generate an idea that you can run with, or it might even be useful... in a different story. And sometimes, well, it's just crap. But crap can be useful too - it might make you laugh, or you can look back on it and pat yourself on the back because hey - at least you don't write crap like that anymore. Or now you recognize crap when you see it. So now if I cut a sentence or paragraph from my story, I don't just delete it; I move it to my s-crap file in case I want to recycle it.

It's come in handy quite a few times.

For example, I wrote this a few months before I ever got started on this book, then I changed it up and used it in chapter one. Originally it was an exercise to describe how it felt to lose someone and have to host their funeral, especially when you have mixed emotions about the people involved, including the deceased (thanks to Hallmark channel for the inspiration). I'm always pushing myself to write something that people can feel, as if they're experiencing it for themselves, so that's what I was going for here... visceral.

I'm posting it as I originally wrote it, warts and all. Yes, I realize it's not perfect. I wrote it and walked away from it until I cannibalized pieces of it for Born on a Day When the Sun Didn't Shine. So to clarify, this hasn't been edited and I am aware that it's not my best effort.

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The following material is copyrighted by Kristy Hutchison:

Here I stand, the focal point of a line that seems to stretch on for eternity. He had been loved, and he would be missed. That's what they tell me. Each of them puts it a different way, but it all boils down to the same thing.

It's awkward to stand here and talk to people I barely know, to accept their condolences on my loss when all I want to do is curl into a ball and disappear. Why should I be subjected to this public spectacle? It feels more like a social event than a viewing. They aren't here for me, they're here for him... and that bastard, he isn't here for me now either. I feel so angry, and so ashamed at myself for being angry. But I have to put on my thankful face... thank you for coming out, thank you for your kind words, thank you for the broccoli casserole.

How much longer can this possibly go on? I forgot to eat breakfast; I don't want to faint in front of him. I need to sit. Or cut my feet off so they won't throb anymore.

God. Why have I been so reliant on him? I don't even know where we keep our money. Where's the insurance policy? He never told me where the safety deposit box was. Come to think of it, I don't know much about anything really. This is just beginning and I'm already overwhelmed.

"Those flowers are from me... they were his favorite." Does she really think I care about flowers right now? Okay she does... and why shouldn't I? She went to all the effort of reaching into the cooler to grab them. But god, they're putrid, she must have spent a whole five bucks on them – if she spent more she got ripped off. They're beautiful, thank you.

I think I see the end of the line. Finally. This is almost over. "We'll drop by later to bring the side dishes." Who is she? "And don't worry dear, we'll stay to help clean up - you shouldn't have to worry about that at a time like this." She's right. I shouldn't have to worry about entertaining at a time like this. I haven't even cleaned the house since it happened. I'll be mortified if anyone wanders into the guest room.

If only he had family. If only he hadn't alienated mine. Might be easier if I didn't have to shoulder the burden of his memory for all of these people. They're starting to cluster now, tell stories about him. Some people are crying, but there are pockets of laughter, too. It doesn't seem right, the laughter. I bet they're telling the chicken story again. They always tell the chicken story. When my time comes I hope I've contributed more to the world than a bad chicken story that isn't even funny unless you were there.

"I always liked him in that suit." Thank you, I bought it two days ago, you have an excellent memory. "He looks so natural, they did a good job." Well yes... except for the orange tint to his skin and... is that mascara? "If you need anything don't hesitate to call us." I don't think you mean that... because I don't actually have your number.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Oh God. I can't believe she's here. She's got a lot of nerve to walk up and try to give me a hug. After fifteen years of marriage I knew something was up, but I hadn't thought it'd be her. If he was going to cheat on me I'd hoped it would be out of vanity, some pretty young thing I couldn't possibly compete against with my saggy ass and age spots. Some silly twit with nothing going on upstairs who couldn't hold his attention so he'd get bored and come home, chastened. But there's nothing remotely attractive about the old bag in front of me except for her Cadillac. I've never seen her this close up before. Gads, she looks like she's wearing a wig and I think she took a bath in Chanel No. 5. There's nothing more embarrassing than being left for an ugly woman... except, I suppose, being left for a man.

I was actually planning to leave him before they found the brain tumor, but by then I was stuck. I hate myself for admitting this, but I mostly stayed because it would look callous if I walked away. People would judge me because I abandoned him. They never liked me so the fact that he was stepping out on me wouldn't matter to them. In fact it would probably end up being my fault, in the final analysis it would be me who drove him to it. They're judging me even now. I can hear their whispers, they think I'm a snob. "Unfriendly" is the word they used. I guess next time I'll try to smile and tell knock-knock jokes so they'll like me.

I don't know what I'm going to do now that he's gone. I'm scared. I've never been alone before. Now I have to fumble my way through life like a newborn. I'm not equipped for this.
 
The agent giveth me hope... and the agent taketh it away. This morning I was elated to see that another agent wanted me to send a sample chapter, but I felt the impending hand of doom when she also stated that she wasn't sure if my book was right for her. She said she'd read it right away and get back to me. True to her word, within two hours my once-high-hopes were dashed. I would be crushed, but I have a lot of irons in the fire, and it's a very subjective business.

Not going to linger on it. In fact, I'm going to continue to make edits tonight, and hopefully print a hard copy so that I can read the whole thing through next week, one with all the changes incorporated into it. Yesterday I sent out 35 more queries, and received no rejection from the agency who requested the full. No news is good news... unless they tell you that no news is bad news. *pulls hair in frustration* There are about fifteen more agencies I will approach once I print the query letters out (snail mail only), and another twenty that I can contact once I write a synopsis... I'm really hung up on the synopsis but there's an agent that I really like on that list, so I need to do it for her... lol

I finally joined a writer's group (of sorts), a site called Absolute Write that I've been using to get agent information in cases where the agency doesn't appear to have a website. So far people have been friendly and I've run across a couple of interesting author websites. It's intimidating to read other people's work, because I have a tendency to make comparisons to my own writing. My writing tends to be pretty simple, no epic battles or complex worlds, mine's more relationship-based and internal. Thank god there's a market for that, and hopefully there's room in it for me!

...I don't know how many times I have to find myself in the middle of making dinner only to find that I'm missing a key ingredient before I start to pay attention to the frickin' recipe. I got Monterey Jack instead of Mozzarella... no big deal... but I totally overlooked the riccota. I don't know if this is going to work out or not, but there's an interesting substitute (no amounts specified so I winged it) of cream cheese, egg and parmesan. Dinner's in the oven now... we shall see. Casseroles tend to be pretty forgiving.

This week I've decided to test my willpower, and yeah--go ahead and laugh at how pathetic I am... I intended to cut back from three sodas a day, to one. I ended up cutting back from three to... two. Yes, it's still progress, but I didn't meet my goal. So this week I'm going to adhere to it, and I'm going to cook meals from Cook Yourself Thin, and I'm going to hop on the treadmill every day and burn at least 250 calories. If I don't see a difference this week, no matter where you live, you will hear my scream. I figure it's six days. If I can't last for six days then what does that say about me?

And you'll be happy to know that I survived the night, in fact, 30 minutes after finishing the movie I was in bed asleep. I am a badass! lol
 
I used to watch Animaniacs and they had a segment called "Good Idea / Bad Idea" (see below) it was always pretty entertaining. One day I came up with my own suggestion:

Good idea: In order to relax yourself as you're giving a speech, imagine your audience in their underwear.

Bad idea: In order to relax yourself as you're giving a speech, imagine yourself in your underwear.

Well here's another bad idea - knowing you're a chickenshit, and attempting to watch The Haunting in Connecticut... alone... in the dark... because your cousin, who actually likes horror movies, said she's now afraid of monsters under the bed and had to sleep with the light on after she watched it (I'm paraphrasing), all because you've been watching Paranormal State with no problem and want to prove that you're a badass and can't be shaken when it comes to the ghosties. So here I am, writing this blog as I watch so that I don't flee the couch and go hide under the covers...

I'm going to share something morbid with you... my grandmother used to take pictures of people in their coffins. I never understood it. My mom eventually forbade it as being, not only embarassing, but taboo (was gonna say 'mortifying' but realized it was a poor choice of words). People have pretty strong feelings about that kind of photography. But... I think I get it. At least I get where it comes from. It was tradition, though not one I suspect my grandmother was involved in since we aren't British and she wasn't alive during the Victorian era.

My first introduction to this practice was during a screening of The Others.  I think they called it a Book of the Dead... pictures of corpses dressed up and posed like they were sleeping. The Haunting in Connecticut started the credits rolling with more pictures of the dead lying in state... not in a book, but in framed photographs. According to my brief foray onto the web, the practice was called memento mori. You can read about it here if you wish to.

I guess in my own way, I inherited that same morbid gene. I like old graveyards. I like them because they're peaceful, and the gravestones are usually pretty artistic. My favorite graveyard is in Metarie, Louisiana. There you can find all kinds of fascinating structures because they have to bury their dead above ground. I would like to go back again now that I have a digital camera and take better photos. I have a healthy respect for the dead, I try not to bother them, I hope they won't bother me. Guess I'll test that theory when I go to the Greyfriar's Cemetery in Scotland and face the MacKenzie poltergeist.

Crap, I'm out of things to talk about, and I'm only halfway through the movie... I guess it's alright, it looks like the ghost wants help of some kind, so maybe there will be a happy ending?

I'm so gullible.

So... um... The Others... One of my favorite movies. Very well done, suspenseful and poignant. Love the atmosphere that was created, and the twist at the end. Music was great, too... Very Alfred Hitchcock. (I get the 'monster under the bed' comment now... I'd like to say that I'm smart enough not to reach under there, but I would also like to say that when I hear unexpected noises, I don't investigate them)

I think if I lived in this house, I'd move already...

Oh - and Badoo was a Ba-Don't (ba-dum-dum). After 23 instances of the same conversation (he says, "hello," I say "hello" and then I wait for intelligent conversation to ensue... and I wait... and I wait... and it's like that scene in The Sweetest Thing where Christina Applegate is flirting with a guy and all they say to each other is "What's up?"...[insert smile]..."What's up with you?"...[insert coquettish look]..."What's up with you?"...[twirl hair]...); I simply gave up. The true epiphany came after I accidentally clicked on someone's profile and suddenly noticed that everyone had a tag line. One of the taglines was "wants to practice kissing on a girl," and that was actually one of the better ones.

In hindsight I probably should have kept my profile up because it was sure to give me something to write about if I ever get stuck for ideas...
 
Last night I had a dream that I put myself in cryostasis until I could find the right guy. It was up to my friends and family to screen my potential boyfriends so that I wouldn't waste all my vital years while I waited for Mr. Right to come along and sweep me off my feet. Then, even in my dream I started finding the flaws in the plan... if I slept through twenty years, I'd have nothing to talk about, nothing in common with these romeos. Would I have to wake up and be refrozen each time it didn't work out? Why not just have an arranged marriage? See? Even though my dreams are in color, there are always shades of grey.

I did a search on search engine optimization, to try and figure out how to get my website out there. Six hundred hits ain't bad, but I'm primarily swimming in the same pool and I want more exposure (careful what you ask for Kristy). I found all kinds of social networking sites, and that's apparently key to getting my name to come up on a Google search... as is linking... So I'm now a member of Badoo, Digg, Bebo, del.icio.us, and Live Journal. I'm juggling here... Truth be told I'll probably never log into these accounts after I slap my URL on them and it feels a little dirty. Heh Heh... I like it!

So now I can segue into my experiences on Badoo... I chose to sign up on Badoo because the Wiki I read claims there are 37 million members and it's popular across Europe. I thought to myself - 'I too would like to be popular in Europe! Sign me up!' Well, I am stunned. Ten minutes after registering on Badoo and I'm talking to thirteen guys (I keep updating the number). I never get this much action! It's a little awkward though, because I can't chitchat with people I don't know unless they bring me something to work with. Whether there's attraction there or not, I'm willing to chat. No harm in it, although there is certainly an air of menace that puts my shields on high... I hear my mother's voice telling me that everyone I meet on the internet is a maniac who wants to stuff me in a van and do horrible things to me... and the guy who 'wants to talk to girls about sex' just might be... he just might be...

So I'm sitting here talking to guys in Arizona, Illinois, Florida, Bolivia, the Dominican Republic, and Italy... and 90% of the first contacts say, 'Hi.' So I say, 'Hi.' Or they say 'Hola' and I say 'Hi' because it's important to establish that I can't converse en espanol. I know I'm being nitpicky, but if you're going to initiate the contact, please bring something to the table... look at my profile and comment on something so that I have somewhere to go! Or say something zany and I'll play along. 'Hi' doesn't help me... True to the stereotype (and in this case it's a good one), the Italian man was very flattering, he seemed to want nothing more than to say, 'hello, you're pretty.'

This is going to be a train wreck, I can tell.

COMMENTS: Jeff, I tried to put the counter on the Scotland page so it wouldn't be so in-your-face... I'm trying to be sensitive to your envy, lol!
 
My samples from Pink Quartz Minerals showed up in the mail today... so pretty... four tiny little plastic vials of shimmery red eyeshadows and one small baggie of a gorgeous shimmery gold. Makeup is my latest addiction, I'm actually ashamed at how many eyeshadows I own, and I just bought more today... (samples from sellers on Etsy! cheap and fun and it keeps me out of trouble because the alternative is Ulta or Sephora or CVS...) So I went online to get inspiration from Makeup Geek, because she tends to do looks that have more impact than my other two faves, Lauren Luke and Kandee Johnson, and I'm still trying to put together a look for Samhein (Halloween). I don't know why, but I have gotten sucked in to these tutorials. My inner Barbie has only recently come out, but now that she's out, she's out with a vengeance.

Incidentally, and I probably shouldn't admit this because I know all books start with disclaimers that any resemblance to real people is purely circumstantial, but I loosely based my character Lauren on the Lauren who does the makeup tutorials. I guess it's not surprising... I observe people every day and over time the character traits find their way into my writing. She just has this every-girl personality that you can't help but like, she seems so genuine and... likeable. I don't know her, never met her, haven't spoken to or corresponded with her, so the character is only a representation... my interpretation... and I'm sure when all is said in done it really does bear no reselmblance to the real person... it's based on her vivaciousness and openness and how comfortable she seems to be in her own skin. I was happy when one of my friends said they loved her in the book. So. Not actually Lauren, but yes, based on Lauren. And the fact that she's also named Lauren? I actually had a character named Lauren in my screenplay, so I wanted to give her a second chance.

This morning one of my friends returned my manuscript with her suggested edits (and no, I haven't gone psycho - I'm still marvelling at the cool binder it's in). Throughout this process it has been so interesting to see what other people think as they read my story, what they key into. Almost everyone brings something different to the table. I love to read the comments... "No!" or "Gag" or "I love this!" or "You switched metric systems." My mom thought the scene in the hardware store went on a little too long, just prior to that, one of my friends told me he loved the scene in the hardware store. You can't please everyone I guess, but I like that I'm not getting too many people pointing out the same issues. Most of what I see is positive feedback, and questions that make me rethink how I worded something.

Tonight I spoke to one of the friends who is coming to Scotland with me, and he asked me if I would help out with a press release for a charity event that his Harley chapter is putting together. Awesome! I love this guy (and the cherry on top is that his wife is incredible, too). Our friendship was forged in  a non-traditional manner, one not likely to have lasted for this long: I met him over the telephone at my last job... over ten years ago... egads! I worked as a buyer supporting the western region of a major telecommunications company, and he was one of the project managers I frequently worked with. We developed a rapport and over time became friends... he's a hell of a guy. As luck would have it, I had a relative living in the same general vicinity, so I got to meet up with he and his wife a couple of times, and we now have this great, almost famial relationship. I guess my point is, you never know who is going to come into your life, or where they'll pop up, but sometimes you get lucky. I feel lucky anyway. Most of the time (gotta keep him grounded).

Spent my lunch hour looking up more agents. I added about 25 to my list, and unless the whole winery thing works out for tomorrow... which is not looking promising... I'll spend a good portion of my day sending out more queries and working on the book (my friend had some valid suggestions so I want to go back tomorrow and implement some of them). My enthusiasm is back now that I've gotten a positive response from an agent, and I know better than to put all of my eggs in that one basket; it's not a yes yet (but it's not a no... it's like purgatory...).

So that was my day. Oh - that, and the bathrooms were out of order for over half the day, so I had to walk half way to Albequerque to pee. Fun! Sometimes I think other people must have way more exciting lives than I do... Oh, and I take far too much joy in puns... a friend of mine is an electrician and he was getting worked up over something so I got to tell him not to blow a fuse... I slay me.

Now I'm going to get off the computer, lie back on the sofa, and watch A Haunting... and possibly freak myself out so that I will have problems falling asleep... even though I'm completely wiped out... I don't know why I do this to myself, but the paranormal fascinates me. If they had a paranormal channel I'd be watching that puppy all day long... as long as the shows were worth watching... and okay, honestly most of them are crap... Paranormal State, on the other hand... that's one of my faves...

...and before I start to ramble again... I'm getting off this crazy thing!
 
First - a couple of random thoughts:

1. The frozen dinner I had for lunch puported to contain chicken and stuffing with mashed potatoes. What I found inside the box were two strips of chicken sitting atop a pile of soggy croutons smothered in gravy. Ah those crazy marketers... you're a wily bunch who rule the world with your versions of the truth... lol

2. This morning as I drove into work, a security guard - who I've never seen before - said, "welcome back!"... How did he know I was out yesterday?...

On to the nibbling...

Yesterday I sent out several more query letters. It was a matter of getting off my duff, delving deeper into the database and taking more chances (primarily broadening the search parameters from 'paranormal romance' to 'women's fiction' and 'commercial fiction').

...and it might just pay off! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

This afternoon I checked my email and the dread filled me... a response... if I opened it would it tell me that they appreciated my submission but it was a pass... or... *click* ... would they?... *gasp* ... did they just?... OMG, they did! They just requested the full manuscript! Someone wants to read my story! Someone that I don't know!!! Someone who knows publishers!

For those of you who write, you know how monumental this feels... It's not a rejection. It's not a yes, but it's closer to a yes than I was yesterday... and they requested a full, not a partial. It's step 0.5 in the process of getting published, but it's a step that I've certainly never taken before. It's exhilerating and terrifying, because now it's real, now I have a shot - and I'm a perfectionist, so I don't know if I'm ready. After the immediate thrill, there was horror: Did I sell myself short? Is it the best it can be? Did I edit it as much as it needs to be edited? Should I have waited for all of my proofers to finish it first? Did I jump the gun? The only solution I could come up with was to trust that I have put a lot of effort into it, and hope that they like it despite its flaws.

I'm open to criticism. I know a lot of people say that and don't necessarily mean it, but I am. I'm proud of what I've written, but I recognize that there's always room for improvement, and I am definitely willing to listen to the professionals. As I've gotten copies back from my proofers, my thought process has been to:

-- Immediately recognize the critque as valid and make the change (spelling, grammar, things out of sequence, comments that strike a chord)

-- Take the critque into consideration and decide whether I agree with it or not, and if not, I wait to see if more than one person brings up the same issue (grey area)

-- Completely ignore it as irrelevant (something I intentionally wrote to be ambiguous, something that will play into the second book)

Typically I toggle between the first two. I don't get upset with the person for being honest, because I'm asking them for honesty (I do request that they be nice about it though). I don't take it personally, even though it's sometimes difficult, because it is all a matter of opinion and there's no point in getting upset about it. I'll tell you something - being a proofreader takes guts, and I am humbled that my friends agreed to do it, that they trust me not to become irrational!

I know just about diddly about agents (with regard to who the best one is). I read their profiles and usually try to find a sentence that jumps out at me... loves a good vampire story... enjoys finding new talent... really likes a hero with a sense of humor... something that resonates with me. I sort of judge them the way they judge me, to see if I think we're a good fit. I honestly don't know who I'll end up with, only that I will know when it feels right, and that will be the perfect agent... for me.

To put a perfect cap on the day - it looks like it might rain! We need rain... but... yesterday it looked like it was going to rain, too... and it did a lot of grumbling, but not much raining... Right now the sky is a very, very dark grey... Eh, I have pizza coming (the world's best pizza)... and if it rains, I'll feel bad that the poor delivery guy had to get out in it to deliver my food... so it's definitely going to rain... because I feel too good right now and I need to be taken down a peg (kidding... I don't really, I'm humble I swear!).

Oh yeah... I hear the sweet, sweet sound of heavy drops hitting the concrete (and just in time for the pizza guy, as I predicted)...

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