The Voices In My Head

I have a new home!

2011-06-27T07:33:00.004-04:00

As I mentioned a couple of months ago, a new site has been in the works and I've finally moved! Whee! The magnificent people at Waxcreative Design built me a beautiful site, so please jump over and leave a comment.

The site is designed to consolidate all the social media. You can read the blog there, and connect to me on Twitter and Facebook. As far as this blog, I'm closing down the comments, however please feel free to leave a comment on the new page.

The address is www.jeanniemoon.com. I hope to see you there.

Jeannie

New site

2011-06-11T21:26:00.001-04:00

A couple of months ago, I mentioned I was having a new website designed. Well, after questionnaires, color choices, design decisions and content delivery, the new www.jeanniemoon.com will be going live by the end of the month.

If you check the site right now all you'll find is a placeholder, but never fear, the team at WaxCreative is doing their special magic and a new and pretty site will be there soon.

Hope everyone visits when I move into my new cyberhome.

Love,

Jeannie

Changing It Up

2011-03-25T21:51:00.000-04:00

The blog is going dark for a while. I've been trying to manage too many social media outlets and I finally decided I needed professional help to pull it together. So, look for a change of venue and a major redesign in a few months.

Until then keep looking for me on Facebook and Twitter. I'll be there when I need a break from the writing.
xoxo
Jeannie

Pay It Forward II

2011-01-23T19:02:00.002-05:00

Allyson Peterson, also known as Crazy Writer Girl gave me the "Stylish Blogger Award." It's lovely of her to do and it gives me the opportunity to pay it forward and draw your attention to some wonderful bloggers. Follow these people. Read them. They are funny, wise and have provided me with a tremendous amount of support on this writing journey. My online friends travel the road with me and I appreciate every one of them.

First, I have to tell you some things about me.

1 I know the difference between boarding, roughing and cross-checking.

2. I got a tattoo when I turned forty. It’s awesome, but I wouldn’t do it again.

3. Sleeping annoys me. I fight it and do it as little as possible.

4. My favorite guilty pleasure is Nutella right from the jar.

5. I’m a bag whore. I love totes, purses, clutches. You name it; I love bags.

6. I really like ABBA.

7. I’ve been in more than one professional sports locker room.

Now for the bloggers. I'm supposed to list fifteen...I'll do my best.

Tawna Fenske

Jessica Lemmon

Whew! Made it! (There are actually sixteen blogs) Truly, if you need to add some interesting, clever reads to your day stop by these blogs. They are, indeed, stylish! Hopefully those bloggers I've mentioned will bring your attention to someone else by paying it forward.

New year...new commitment.

2011-01-16T10:08:00.001-05:00

Hey, everyone. I've emerged from my cave and I've decided the blog gets one last shot at life. I will do this by posting once a week. I'm thinking Sunday mornings, since I'm usually up at the crack of dawn while the rest of the house snoozes. And if I have to set reminders on my calendar to make sure the post gets done, that's what I'll do.

If this is going to be successful, it's going to be because of a routine. You'll notice I didn't say anything about not having enough time. I have time. What I don't have right now is structure.

Routines helped me survive the years when my children were small and I was teaching full time. By getting into a routine, the kids knew what to expect, and even better, my husband and I knew that week to week, we had things under control.

From doing grocery shopping on Friday nights to knowing Monday night we were having pizza for dinner, the predictability made our busy lives easier. I do believe I need to get back to routines even though I don't have the little kids anymore. When I slip into schedule chaos, I get nothing done. I get frustrated and stressed, and right now, since there's a lot going on (family, work, school play, local RWA stuff, writing...) I need predictability.

So tonight we're having a sit down and we're going to figure out how to make life more manageable. It can be done. If I could do it when I had three children under the age of five, a full time job and a demanding graduate school program, I can certainly do it now.

So what about you? How do you find time to write amid all the other things life throws at you?

Hiatus

2010-12-15T22:49:00.004-05:00

I've suffered some personal losses over the past month and things have pitched out of control at work, so I'm going to focus, for the next few weeks, on my family.

If I've learned nothing else, I know what's important--the people we love and those who love us. So as we look back on this year, rather than focusing on things that have given us fits and sorrow, we should double our efforts to appreciate the gifts we've been given. I know I will be doing just that.

I hope you all have a Joyous Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Jeannie

Counting Your Blessings

2010-11-14T20:54:00.011-05:00

Every once in a while, life hands you a personal epiphany. You know what that is, right? It’s a moment when you’re able to get your head around something you’ve been struggling with, or you understand something clearly. There are epiphanies that come on gradually and the realization is like an alarm going off in your head. It’s the “ah-ha” moment. There’s another type, though. The type you don’t see coming and the clarity hits you like a Louisville Slugger to the gut.

This is not a gentle “ah-ha.” This is a full-fledged assault on your current reality.

I had an epiphany last night. And it wasn’t the gentle kind.

I've been in education for twenty-five years. I'm proud of being a teacher even though, for the time being, we're perceived as a scourge on society. I do good work, and my students are important to me. Before I was a librarian, I taught English for ten years and the last four of those years I spent at St. Dominic High School on Long Island. I taught seniors almost exclusively and developed some wonderful relationships with many of the students. My last class graduated fifteen years ago in 1996. They were a remarkable bunch--becoming lawyers, artists, social workers, Marines, teachers, moms and dads, executives, business owners, college professors...you get the idea. They are successful people who are contributing to society and I'm very proud of them.

However, one of them just died. She was thirty-three.

I probably wouldn't have known if it hadn't been for the marvel that is social networking. Because in reality, I lost touch with my students. It happens, but Facebook has brought a number of them back into my life. A year ago, Jennifer friended me on Facebook. I remembered her well. She was a quiet young lady who was as gentle as a breeze. She had good friends, a kind heart and a unspoken passion for everything she did.

She had this passion, I believe, because she knew time was precious. Jenn had Cystic Fibrosis.

It was a quiet battle. She'd miss school, but she never complained. She moved through her life finding a way to complete her education, making a large network of friends, loving her family and suffering the loss of her sister from the same disease.

I didn't have a lot of contact with her over the past year, but it was hard to avoid seeing all she'd accomplished. I learned she'd had a double lung transplant which offered hope and trials at the same time. She worked for others with CF and always carried herself with a mantle of hope. Two days before her death, she posted a status on Facebook that thanked her father for his military service and thanked the family of her lung donor for the gift she'd received.

And then the people who loved her, lost her.

I cried when I saw the post on her wall, made by one of her friends, saying good-bye. I cried and then I had my epiphany. It happened as I was about to whine to someone about my rejected manuscript. As I was about to complain about having too few bathrooms in my house. As I was about to work myself into a frenzy about some petty little thing.

Yeah. I felt really stupid and this is where counting my blessings comes in. This loss has has put things in perspective, and I hate that it often takes something tragic for people, like me, to have a wake-up call.

So here goes...My children are healthy and successful. My husband is a kind and gentle man who adores me, although sometimes I don't know why. I have a career that allows me to make a real difference in the lives of children and I have some wonderful friends. My novels may never be published, but because of my writing, I've come in contact with talented and generous people and I've challenged myself in ways I never thought possible. I have a lot to be thankful for and very little to complain about and Jennifer reminded me of this fact.

Jennifer was one soul who touched many lives. I can't say I knew her the way others did, but she was courageous and she will be missed. She is also just one of a handful of my former students who left this world too soon. All left behind people who loved them and lives full of potential.

I thank God I knew them, just as I thank all of the kids who've crossed my path for the things they've taught me.

With luck, we'll all keep learning from each other.

50,000 words. 30 days. No problem.

2010-10-31T23:36:00.014-04:00

As I look at the title of this post I feel like screaming, "Liar, liar, pants on fire!" Because I do have a problem.

Tomorrow I, along with tens of thousands of other writers, will embark on the month long writing sprint called NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. Now that this particular brand of insanity has been named, let me tell you my plan for the month.

Here goes...

I have no plan. Nope. No plan. Nothing.
Okay, I have a character list. And I have character sketches. And I have backstory. However, the plot structure is weak, at best, and I have no doubt I will write myself into several corners over the course of the month.

So why am I doing this? That is easy. Even if I'm not writing my best work for the entire month, if I come out of it with 50,000 words, I have 50,000 words I can work with. Additionally, there is the community, the bond, the knowledge that I'm doing something hard and that other people are struggling and fighting for every word the same way I am. I did Nano last year and reached my 50K word goal. The book is pretty much done and would have been finished sooner, but my big revision threw off my time table. I'm editing last year's Nano novel now and I'm ready to start another.
So, while I may not have a real plot going into tomorrow, I do have a loose plan.

1. Stock up on coffee.

2. Plan to write at lunch. That's 40 minutes every day to write.

3. I'm giving myself permission to write crap.

4. I'm going to seek out encouragement from others.

The last one is big for me and exciting. I wrote on my own last year. This year, I have buddies. People who will encourage me when I'm procrastinating or doubting myself. The writing network I often blog about is heading to Nano in November.

We're in this together and that's pretty awe inspiring. So how about you? Are you jumping into the Nano pool? Ready to write 1700 words a day? Come on in; there are a lot of us here and we'll keep you from going under.

Book Review: Hamlet's BlackBerry

2010-10-25T00:31:00.004-04:00

It’s a rare person these days who can keep the digital world at bay. As I write this post, there are three applications on my computer that demand my attention. There’s a message on Facebook, there are a dozen tweets I could answer and I’m sure there’s something in my inbox. I heard the chime on my smartphone signaling that I have a text message. We tweet; we e-mail; we instant message, text or BBM. There’s Facebook, MySpace and LinkedIn. Everywhere we turn our attention is drawn to someone who needs us and is letting us know through technology. For most of us, the draw of a smartphone and the ability to stay in touch with everyone at all times is hard to control. We are in personal information overload and the book, Hamlet's BlackBerry: A Practical Philosophy for Building a Good Life in the Digital Age, by William Powers gives us a look at how we are becoming hyper-dependent on the digital feed and how all this dependence could be a result of us being hard-wired to respond to new stimuli.

Powers, a former staff writer for the Washington Post, delves into several areas. He looks at past technological revolutions as far back as Guttenberg and the printing press and how all technological advances were criticized for pushing forth too much change. Just as we are being warned about the all-consuming addiction of social media, Powers reminds us of the warnings that came with the development of radio and TV and how with each new thing, humans adapted. He also looks at how this new wave of change is taking so much more out of our day and intruding on time that we used to spend with ourselves.

However, we may not be able to help it. Research done recently supports the theory that the new stimuli cause a reaction in our brain that produces a little high. So if you remember how excited Meg Ryan’s character got when she heard those little words “You’ve got mail,” her response may be grounded in fact. Scientists have discovered that we get a little shot of dopamine every time one of our technological tethers tells us someone wants our attention.

But, hard-wired or not, the revolution is cutting into time we would normally take to think and recharge. Powers is sometimes redundant in his warnings, repeating over and over how the over-connectedness needs to be managed. Fortunately, he does present strategies we can use to combat the “techno bind” we find ourselves in today.

Hamlet’s Blackberry is an interesting read. The book puts this new frontier in proper historical context and gives those who are interested ideas on how to manage the constant demand the new technologies place on our time.

Words to Live By

2010-10-15T21:08:00.001-04:00

I'll write more for my weekly post, but this quote is perfect today:

"Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat. "

~F. Scott Fitzgerald

Everyone have a great weekend.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-10-13T20:09:00.000-04:00

This face could make anyone happy. Meet Holly.

Too Much Information?

2010-10-11T02:19:00.012-04:00

Image from The Digerati Life

It's no secret that I have a book on submission. Maybe it should be. Perhaps I should have guarded it like a state secret, but I couldn't. The reason I'm wondering if I did the right thing is because now my failure will be as public as my triumph. Do I want the whole world to know if my book doesn't make it?

The point is, it's tempting to tell all when you are hooked into social networking. It's a necessity in this day and age to show you have a web presence and that you are conscious of publishing as a business that will require you to do your fair share of book promotion. But with all this connectedness, we risk a lot of ourselves out there in cyberspace and I wonder if this is a good thing.

My previous post was about how writers supported other writers. Most of the people who were telling me to keep going after that last rejection were people I met online--other writers who were looking to connect with their own kind, who were looking for support. I've had friends jump in and offer encouragement and people I never would have expected are rooting for my success.

So, should I have put myself on the line like I did? Is is okay that anyone linked to me by a mouse click knows my writing fate? Maybe not, but if the trade off for that means I get to know more people like me who are working toward perfecting that book and getting "the call," or I get to see the positive, generous side of so many others, then it's all worth it.

So what do you think? Too much, too little or just right?

Writers Helping Writers

2010-10-04T00:30:00.007-04:00

As I hinted at in a previous post, I got hit with a rejection not too long ago that stung. When a full manuscript gets rejected it always hurts more than the partial. With a partial you can always say the reader didn't get to the good parts, but with a full, it's final and no matter how kind the agent's words, there's no way to avoid the burn.

The thing about this business is it turns on a dime, and after sending out a new batch of queries just one night after getting the rejection, I received a positive response early the next morning. Yes, less than twelve hours after sending the query, a full was speeding through cyberspace. I don't want to jinx anything, but my reality this week is very different than my reality last week. And it is good.

However, what I want to write about is what got me through the initial burst of disappointment. This writing business is brutal on the ego. Tougher people than me have packed it in. But I find I can keep going as long as I don't feel alone.

That's really the key.

Through different online outlets like blogs, Facebook and Twitter, I've met some amazing writers. I'm also a member of two local writing groups that offer tremendous support and camaraderie. Whether online or in person, these are people who are going through the same battles I am. We're writing and submitting and dealing with rejections. Or maybe we're doubting whether what we write is good enough to be seen. When the rejection came, I reached out for a hand, for some sympathy, for some advice and it came back in droves. I was able to put the rejection in perspective and move on, but I was only able to do it because of some women with very big hearts.

I've always found the writing community to be a pay-it-forward kind of place. I was on the receiving end of that last week. I can only hope that I have to opportunity to do the same for someone when they need the help or encouragement to keep going. Because when we stick together and weather the storms with others, reaching that finish line is not only easier, there are more people to celebrate the success.

How do you feel less alone? Has someone reached out and helped or encouraged you?

Roller coaster ride

2010-09-28T06:03:00.002-04:00

Writing has it's ups and downs, and to borrow on a tired cliche, that whole "one door closing and another one opening" thing is totally true. I'm not in the position to be more specific than that, but I will say that if the events of the past few days keep moving in the direction they have, I will indeed believe that perseverance and timing have made all the difference for me in the publishing business. Keep your fingers crossed.

“Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish.” John Qunicy Adams

9/11

2010-09-11T05:00:00.000-04:00

On September 11th, 2001 I was a librarian in an elementary school and ironically, that morning, the faculty was walking the evacuation route should we ever have to get the kids away from the school. When we got back from our drill, we heard about the first plane going into the tower. Everyone was stunned. I turned on the TV in the library and we watched the second plane hit. That's when we knew it was no accident.

Then there was The Pentagon. And the flight that went down in Pennsylvania. Buildings collapsed. Thousands of lives were lost. Everything changed. Living just an hour away from Ground Zero, fighter jets flew patrols over my area for a few days. Transportation was disrupted and everyone was walking around in a daze. Driving by train station parking lots was chilling. There were hundreds of cars, sitting for days, waiting for owners who who would never come to claim them.

I knew people who died. I know people who were in NYC when it all happened. I heard stories of people running for their lives, thanking God for making a train late so they weren't at their desks, and of people who walked out of the city over bridges and through tunnels like refugees. People were at their strongest, their kindest, their most resilient that day because they had to be. There was no choice.

There's a lot of talk about making 9/11 a holiday and I don't know if that's appropriate. What I do think we should do is remember all who were lost, all who continue to suffer, and then we should go on with our lives. We shouldn't let the twisted people who masterminded that plan win by making us afraid, making us intolerant or keeping us from enjoying the lives we've built.

So in memory of 9/11 do something positive--make a donation, help a friend, find time to call someone you haven't talked to in a while, learn something new. Be a force for good. Because then the people who try to bring us down will never win.

Letting the Work Speak for Itself.

2010-09-09T23:50:00.006-04:00

In my case, being a parent has helped me with my writing. Not everyone can say that, but I can. I especially feel that having children who are nearly adults has given me great preparation. You see, slowly but surely I've had to let my kids go. They've gone to school, on dates, they've driven cars and two of the three have gone away to college while number three waits on deck.

So sending off a book should be no problem, right? I mean I've sent my flesh and blood children into the world, so the book should be easy. It's just a book, right? Wrong.

Over the past two days, as I sent my work into the void, I was a nervous wreck, and I knew I had to calm down. The book I recently finished revising is not only back with the publisher who gave me such incredible input, but it was requested by an amazing agent in NYC. (Did you all hear me squeal from coast to coast?) If I should be signed by this woman, I would consider myself incredibly lucky and I'd know my career would be in good hands. So why was I having a meltdown?

Simple. I had to let go.

Just like parenting, I have to let my work stand on it's own and accept the loss of control. The book is really good, but there are no more training wheels, no more safety nets--the book, my literary baby, is going to succeed or fail on its own. And it's hard to face that. However, just like my children, I need to believe in what I've done and have faith that I've crafted a good story.

Of course, I'm scared to death, because I've been down this road before and the possibility of rejection is very real.

But it's also rewarding to know I took the step, that I made the attempt and that I was brave enough to let go.

It's the only way to move forward and as writers that's what we need to do. What are you doing to move forward?

Ack! I won something? Really?

2010-09-05T00:00:00.010-04:00

I received a Bloggy Award! I’m tickled because it means that someone appreciated my silly, and often erratic, musings. Thanks a bunch to Michele Shaw for the honor! I love these kinds of things because it shows the incredible support in the blogging community. We are each other's cheerleaders and I appreciate Michele listing me with so many other great bloggers. It's flattering.

So, I’m supposed to pass these on to other bloggers whom I think deserve recognition. There are a few rules attached so pay attention so you can pay it forward.

The Rules for The Versatile Blogger Award:
1. Thank and link back to the person that gave you the award.
2. Share seven things about yourself.
3. Pass the award to fifteen bloggers that you think deserve it.
4. Lastly, contact all the bloggers that you’ve picked for the award.

One Lovely Blog Award Rules:

1. 1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and link back to her.

2. 2. Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.

3. 3. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

Seven little known things about me:

1. 1. I know the difference between boarding, roughing and cross-checking.

2. 2. I got a tattoo when I turned forty. It’s awesome, but I wouldn’t do it again.

3. 3. Sleeping annoys me. I fight it and do it as little as possible.

4. 4. My favorite guilty pleasure is chocolate frosting right from the can.

5. 5. I’m a bag whore. I love totes, purses, clutches. You name it; I love bags.

6. 6. I really like ABBA.

7. 7. I’ve been in more than one professional sports locker room.

So here are the bloggers I’ve chosen to recognize because their blogs make you laugh, cry, think or all of the above:

Blog Like You Mean It- Kelly Breakey

Romance Puppy-Dawn Berkoski

Loose Leaf Writing - Alexa O.

Romancing the Palate-Rebecca Lynn

Are You Ready? -Helen Sayers

Muse Ink-Ami Hendrikson

Fiction Groupie-Roni Griffin

Builder of Worlds-Claire LeGrande

Artistic Minds Think-Amy Colleen

Hot Diggity-Jenna Glatzer

To Tell a Compelling Story…-Patty Blount

Lost in the View-Heather Faesy

The 7^th Woman-Dee Karl

JulieMusil

The Write One-Valerie Haight

Website

2010-08-28T01:20:00.008-04:00

I've parked a website.

I always felt a little funny about having a website to promote my writing when I'm not yet published. It's not going to lead an editor or agent to my door and I honestly feel if I don't have something to promote, why put myself out there.

It seems this is my old "don't notice me" self coming back to haunt my life. However, in the present, information-rich climate it's more important than ever to be visible. So, even though I'm still tweaking it a little, here is my website. It links to my Twitter, my blog, and my Facebook page (which you can also find here) and I hope to add more content as time goes on.

Please visit and please tell me what you think.

www.jeanniemoon.com

Back to the revision. I think this may end soon. I hope.

On hold

2010-08-10T23:13:00.001-04:00

I've been neglectful in my blogging the past two weeks because I have been plowing through my rewrite. I've always been a bit sporadic with posts, but I am just about done with the rewrite and then I plan on making posts twice a week.

Until then, I will be slaving away to finish and then resubmit my manuscript. Fingers crossed that the ending goes smoothly.

A couple of teasers...
One upcoming post will have to do with taking risks and will include the story of how I came to have at tattoo at age 40.

Another will be about my use of bubble gum pop music as a writing tool. Atomic Kitten anyone? No? A-Teens?

Writing From Real Life

2010-07-30T08:56:00.024-04:00

So, the joke goes something like this: “Be careful, or I’ll put you in my novel.” People laugh when I say it, but I have to admit, there is a smidgen of truth to the joke. Oh, don’t worry; when I finally break into publishing, no one is going to have to worry about me turning them into some dreadful villain in a novel, fully recognizable to all. That would be wrong on a lot of levels, but the reality is our lives and our personalities seep into what we write. Every experience, every person, is part of who we are, and inevitably these things wind up on the page.

We collect experiences. That’s what life is. Our bodies and minds become vessels that catch laughter, tears, frustration, and joy. Our parents, our siblings, our teachers and our friends are in there, along with the mean girls, the bullies, and the negativity they bring with them. They bad stuff fights for control and sometimes, it wins. That happens to me. I let the bad overshadow the good; it’s one of my biggest faults and what usually happens is it takes something or someone to give me a good kick to get my mind, and my attitude, on the right track.

I wrote a short post at the beginning of the week about my recently-held class reunion. A couple of things that happened over the course of the weekend really upset me. I tend to be oversensitive, I know that, but usually some time and space allow my feelings to settle. When I had time to process, I was able to put the weekend in perspective and while there is no doubt there are a couple of people I would be happy never to see again, the vast majority of it was really great. I went to school with some unbelievably nice people. The work the organizers of the reunion did was truly appreciated and when I look back at the pictures, the smiles tell me we did a really good job. And even though I didn't have as much fun as I could have had, the pictures don’t lie. I did enjoy myself, and I was really glad to see my friends. It had been too long, but it will not be that long again.

So the question is--who’s going in a book? What experiences have I collected this time? For those of you who thought I had too many cosmos to remember, you’re wrong. (HA!) Here’s what I have so far:

The high-school sweethearts: I can relate to them as I have been with my husband since we were seventeen-years-old, but I think this couple has been together even longer. She’s still beautiful, he’s still handsome and even though there were no overt displays, you can tell they are totally devoted to each other. There were little things--mentions of what they’ve done together, their obvious pride in their children, the mutual respect they share and then there’s the way they look at each other. I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but I did and it warmed me to see a love story still going strong after all these years.

The long-time friends: These women have known each other since middle school, in many cases, and they’ve been through everything together--love and heartbreak; marriage and divorce; birth and death. Their relationships aren’t perfect, but they have a deep bond that has developed over time. There were several groups that fit into this category. I got to know one bunch a little better as we were planning the party and the dynamic is amazing. I’m a little envious because this isn’t my experience, and I know I’m not going to be a part of it, but it’s nice to know friendships like this are out there.

The happy guy: He’s still happy. Everyone still loves him and with good reason. He sees the best in everyone. He’s kind, has a big heart and drives a really cool truck. When he tells you you’re awesome, he means it. He’s definitely going in a book.

The really brilliant guy: He sat near me in AP European History class all those years ago and we laughed together as our teacher talked about his dog, Tiger. This guy has an Ivy League education, but he doesn’t have a pretentious bone in his body—he never did and he never will; he’s still friendly, still enthusiastic about everything and I hope I don’t lose touch with him again.

People I wish I'd known better in high school: There was a woman I spent some time with whom I've been in touch with through the planning process. We had breakfast together when she got into town and two hours flew by like it was nothing. She's sweet, witty and has had an interesting life. New friendships are always good. (Honestly, there are a number of people who fall into this category.)

The cool gay guys: I don’t think I have to say anything else. What’s better than being happy with who you are?

Finally, the mean girls: Believe it or not, the mean girls are easy. (Noooo, not that kind of easy. Well maybe they were, but that's not what I meant.) They’ve always been vapid caricatures, and that’s what they’ll remain. Thanks for the material ladies…you make writing a bitch a no-brainer.

I guess, when you think about it, it's not about what's going to go in a book, but instead I should be asking the question--what isn't? There is no way I can detach myself from my life experiences. Why would I want to? I need the people and the emotions to keep my writing interesting. The words on the page are just black and white, but my experiences, and the people I've known over the years, give the stories color.

Sorting It All Out

2010-07-25T21:31:00.014-04:00

So, the reunion has come and gone, and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. People were perfectly nice and very appreciative of all the work the people on the organizing committee put forth. And I mean GENUINELY appreciative. I was thanked constantly all night and I was happy people had a good time. I wouldn't say I had a great time, mostly because I'm a control freak and I didn't really relax until the last hour. I was a little tipsy, too, and fear I made a bit of a fool out of myself.

Friday night, when the group hit town and spent the night drinking in a local bar, was much more fun for me than the official catered party which was last night. It was relaxed, informal and there weren't any little details to worry about. But I also know I'm not being fair. I'm a little hormonal, I'm experiencing the let down from two constant weeks of stress and I know my vision about the main event is clouded. I'm sure I will feel differently in a week or two when everything calms down and I'm not so tired. Maybe I'll be able to focus on the people who deserve the effort. People like the ones who were my friends thirty years ago and the new friends I've made because I worked on making the reunion happen. There were classmates I was truly happy to see after such a long time, men and women who are fun and interesting and I hope we won't lose touch again.

The bad points? I will say that two people from last night will appear in my next book and it may not be pretty.

That's one way to dump the baggage, eh?

Looking Back, Looking Forward: High School Reunions

2010-07-11T23:42:00.004-04:00

A few months ago I wrote about how I'd gotten myself involved in the planning of my high school reunion. In the post I talked about wrinkles and weight and face creams and I touched on my insecurities. I vowed to get to the gym and lose some weight. I didn't lose much, the reunion is two weeks away and I find that my outlook has changed quite a bit. It's not so much about how I look anymore, but more about all I missed.

When I wrote that post, I had no idea the kind of flashback it would trigger. To say I was insecure during my teen years would be an understatement. I had a small group of friends, didn't go out much and participated in very few activities. Granted, my friends are great people and we had some fun times, but I was always guarded and I didn't take any risks. I didn't get involved in many aspects of high school because I was afraid of being rejected. Parties, I didn't go. Talk to the 'popular' girls? Why would they want to be friends with me? Flirt with the boy I'd had a crush on forever? Never. I could go into why I felt this way, frankly it had a lot to do with how I grew up, but the bottom line was, I had no faith in myself; I was afraid. I felt invisible and life went on around me.

Jump forward thirty years. I carry more than the twenty extra pounds I had in high school, but I have a lot to be proud of...I have a wonderful family and a fulfilling career, for starters. You see, when I went to college I reinvented myself. I explored my talents, found my place in space, took risks, and was burned on more than one occasion. In other words, I grew up. Yet when the reunion planning picked up speed, and I thought about how invisible I felt in high school, all my old insecurities flooded back. I kept thinking that I should forget about being a part of the planning and fade back into the woodwork. Outside my small circle, very few people even remembered me, right? Wrong.

I love learning new things, but I'm even happier when I learn more about myself. Because I've gotten involved in this event, I've discovered something...I could have felt much more connected to my high school years if I'd let more people get to know me. If I'd found my niche, been a part of something consistently rather than haphazardly, I'd have changed my story. I didn't have to feel invisible. Working on the reunion has brought me a lot of satisfaction and has connected me to people I never would have gotten to know otherwise. I'm looking forward to seeing my old friends that weekend and getting to know some new friends a little better.

People malign their high school years and I often think it's more about regrets than anything else. Maybe I'm romanticizing this more than I should, but if you could change something about your years in high school, what would it be?

Where the Magic Happens

2010-07-06T10:15:00.003-04:00

I’ve been spending a lot of time in my office lately. As many people know, I was lucky enough to receive a letter from an editor that outlines some areas and changes that she feels would make the plot of my book stronger. I was invited to resubmit if I chose to make the changes. I thought about the letter for a few days and decided to work with her suggestions. There would be little disruption to the core of the story, I would have to rewrite the last chapter, but again, the outcome for my main characters remains unchanged, even if I tweak the plot. I had nothing to lose and a sale to gain.

So, since I’ve been pretty much living in my writing space, I thought I’d share some pictures. I’m a firm believer in having a space to work. If you don’t have the luxury of a room like I have (albeit a tiny 10 x 10 converted bedroom) lay claim to some space so people in your house know that when you are there, with a computer, you are writing. It's good for you as a writer and it's good for your family. For the record, I rarely close the office door. My family has full access to me most of the time, my kids are in and out of the office all day long, but they know how important this project is to me, so they respect my space.

With my DH’s help, I have quite a pretty little office. We painted the room this deep teal two years ago. I wasn't sure about it for a long while, but it's grown on me and now I find it quite soothing.

This is my desk. Yes, there are two computers. Originally, my husband and I were going to share the space. He gave up, the dear man, and either gets all his paperwork done at the office or uses his laptop.

Coffee is required. I love the mug I bought from Cafe Press.

This is the comfy chair I just added to the space. The binder you see open on the ottoman contains my manuscript. There are hundreds of Post-its marking the parts to be revised. I'm not done yet. The little table has my Kindle, my notebooks, a glass of water, some copies of RWR and a basket of necessities.

The basket: it contains Post-its, colored pens and highlighters, my iPod, binder clips and a spare pair of glasses. Usually there are a few pieces of chocolate, too.

I suppose the point I'm trying to make with this post is that no matter what you do, whatever your passion, make a space for yourself and give yourself time to pursue it. You don't have to cut out the ones you love, or ignore the world, you don't even need a separate room, but try to find a space that allows you to enter your creative zone and visit it every day. You deserve it.

Tell me about your creative space. Is it working? Is it not working? What would you change if you could?

Rogues and Scoundrels (Or this is not your mama's bodice ripper.)

2010-07-01T01:01:00.006-04:00

It’s not a secret that I read romance. I write it and I’ve loved the genre for years. Even as a child, I was drawn to love stories and the happily ever after. My favorite book growing up was a version of Cinderella, from the original fairy tale by Perrault, that was translated and illustrated by Marcia Brown. It was a beautiful book, but more than the award winning illustrations, I was drawn to the story. I believed in finding Prince Charming. So years later—me and romance—it was a perfect fit.

I fancied myself a contemporary romance reader, especially when I really started devouring the books in the late 1990’s. Sometimes I threw in romantic suspense, but I never read historical. I’d tried. I wasn’t drawn in by Kathleen Woodwiss or Victoria Holt. I knew what they meant to the genre, but the books weren’t for me. I was pushed away by the stereotype. You know the one--the book with a long-haired, shirtless rogue staring hungrily at a maiden in a low-cut gown. I never felt like I could be the cowering maiden in the picture, so I didn't read about her. Instead, I learned to love the genre reading Nora Roberts, Susan Elizabeth Phillips and Barbara Delinsky. Modern women, modern sensibilities. Historical and regency romances were not for me…until now.

I’d been seeing these names pop up—Tessa Dare, Courtney Milan and Victoria Dahl. I heard their books were fabulous with great writing, heroes to die for and heroines that knew their own minds. I was not disappointed. I started my new secret love affair with One Dance with a Duke, by Tessa Dare. Plain Amelia is blessed with a great mind, but she’s a spinster who one night is swept off her feet at a ball and ultimately has to marry to save her reputation and her family. It may seem like Spencer, the aforementioned Duke, has all the power in the relationship, but don’t be fooled. Amelia is smart and knows what she wants and she wants Spencer. (Hold onto your wonder bras, these books will have you running for a cold shower!) There are the usual complications…the lack of faith in each other, the inability to completely commit, the lies and misunderstandings, but in the end I got my sweeping love story and a happily ever after.

So what was different about these books? I think what I found in all the books was a commitment to the heroine. The stories belonged to them and ultimately they had control over their fate. Oh, there may have been a marriage of convenience or the saving of one’s honor, but unlike the romances of the past, the women in these historicals had choice and it was this modern twist that converted me.

There are the requisite heaving bosoms, bare chested men on horseback and in one the hero had been a privateer, which means he was, kind of, a pirate. (Don’t laugh; the book was awesome!) There are gowns and governesses, breeches and boots, waistcoats and afternoon tea. The settings are sumptuous, meticulously researched and fun.

I have four still unread books in my Kindle and I’m saving them for an afternoon when I need a break from reality. Because honestly, is there anything better than a gorgeous rogue on horseback to take your mind off the everyday? I think not.

Of course, I have some recommendations. Give these books a try; you won’t be sorry:

Tessa Dare

Stud Club Trilogy

One Dance with a Duke

Twice Tempted by a Rogue

Three Nights with a Scoundrel (available next month)

First Trilogy

Goddess of the Hunt

Surrender of a Siren

A Lady of Pursuasion

Courtney Milan

Proof by Seduction

Victoria Dahl has a number of good books, check her out at:

http://www.victoriadahl.com/

Endings and Beginnings

2010-06-24T22:33:00.004-04:00

The last day of school is a call to celebrate for me. Not because I have two months off, but because now I can work on my books. Summer is my writing time. Yes, I will go to the beach, spend time with family and friends, read my fill and sleep a little later, but more than anything I will write.

I'm still waiting for my revision letter; I have a book to finish and I have another book that may have some rewrite potential. I have a fourth book cooking in the back of my mind and I need to start researching that one very soon. The stories are all in there and I can't wait to get things on the page.

How do you spend your summer? Do things change for you? Does the pace slow? Do you have something special that you like to do?

The way I see it, the school year is ending, but the work is just beginning.

Facing your dream

2010-06-16T23:09:00.000-04:00

I write because I have stories to tell. I want to be published because I have stories to share.

I'm facing the dream today. No I didn't get "the call." But I did get something almost as valuable to an aspiring author--a revision letter. Revision letters from editors indicate interest; they indicate opportunity; they indicate that your book doesn't totally suck. The editor loved my voice and characters, but has a few issues with the plot in the second half. Plot? Plot I can fix. Squee!!!

So, now I get back to work on a book I had wanted to put to bed. One I wanted to sell, but I didn't want to work on it until it had publishing deadlines attached. Life is funny like that. Things never go as planned, but I am more than willing to adapt if I get one step closer to my dream.

This is scary, but I truly think any thing worthwhile has an element of fear attached to it.

Ah well, here's to being afraid.

What about any of you? Have you stumbled, stuttered or crumbled when you are faced with a dream? Something you thought you would never have? Tell me about it.

Time passes

2010-06-08T19:56:00.003-04:00

My role in my children’s lives has changed drastically over the last several years. They are all young adults now and I find that I’m no longer refereeing fights, but I’m helping the three of them figure out who is taking which car where. With each passing day they are becoming more independent, more self assured and more responsible. It’s what I always wanted for them, yet it breaks my heart.

I’m coming to the point in my life where I am no longer as needed as I used to be. I have more freedom. I am able to pursue my own interests. I can spend time with my husband…my possibilities are endless. And like I said, this is what I wanted, until I had time to think about it.

Yesterday, I knew my husband was meeting with some colleagues for dinner, which meant I would be alone with my son. Both girls are taking summer classes, so it was me and the boy for dinner. I thought we could go out, get a burger or some pizza and talk. He does talk when he’s alone with me and I was looking forward to it. It was not to be. He had to be back at school for a student government meeting, but the oldest girl was home—her class was cancelled. I'd take her to dinner instead. Nope. She had plans with friends. Middle girl? She had lab along with her class and would be out for hours. I was alone. Just me and the dogs. Heaven you think?

Nah. I lost it.

I’d had a bad day at school, and I’m stuck in my manuscript, and I wanted company, but no one was around. Now, I’m a dedicated mom. It’s one of the things that I’ve never had a problem with. I’ve made good decisions with the kids; I've spoiled them when appropriate, but none of them are afraid of a good day’s work. They’re good students, they volunteer and I’ve encouraged them to be independent. And it was last night that I discovered I’d done a really good job because while I needed them, they didn’t need me. They were out dealing with their own lives.

I guess this post is about recognizing that sometimes doing a good job, and getting what you want, can hurt. I miss my little children. I miss reading them stories and cuddling with them in front of the TV. However, I am very proud of the adults they have grown to be. This parenting thing is a double-edged sword and while I know that every step they take is a step away from me, I also know this is the right thing. Because as sad as I am that I will never have them little again, I have a wonderful relationship with my adult children.

So for all you parents out there, I know you hear this over and over, but enjoy your little ones. The time does fly, but understand that the loneliness that comes when you can no longer tuck them in at night is a sign you’ve done a good job.

Making the most of my time.

2010-05-23T10:21:00.007-04:00

I’m busy.

Does that sound familiar? I can also procrastinate with the best without much effort, which is why I try to keep myself on a schedule. Routines are comforting for me and I am slowly building myself a new routine after spending years in chaos.

The only part of my day that’s scripted is my work day. I know I have to be at work at seven in the morning and I can leave around two. On Wednesdays I have meetings after school so that means I could be home as late as five o’clock. Even though my kids are older and I’m not driving the carpools anymore, I still find there are tons of things that demand my time, so after winging it for a long time, I’ve decided to take control. I make time to do what's important to me and slowly I add more to my routine.

Writing was one of those things that I often found myself fighting to find time to do. My biggest problem is I’m a nocturnal writer. I do my best work between eleven at night and three in the morning; this is a problem when the alarm goes off at 5:15 AM. However, I did find there was another stretch of time I had almost every day when the writing flowed. I had about forty minutes in the middle of my work day when I was knocking out a couple of pages at a time. I could write when I was on hall duty.

I've written about hall duty before. I don’t like the way it breaks up my day and being in the library I feel like there are some days I’m on duty for nine periods, but I was assigned, so I go. I discovered I could write productively by accident.

I brought my netbook with me one day because I wanted to read something a friend had sent me. I read her piece and then, with about twenty minutes left, I opened up my work in progress (WIP). I wrote a page and a half. It wasn’t that the hall was quiet, it wasn’t, but for some reason, even with an interruption here or there, I was able to write. Since then, I almost look forward to my duty period. I’ve been able to add about 3000 words to my book during my hall duty. I know that’s not a lot, but it gets me going. What I write while sitting in the cruddy old student desk is churning in my head the rest of the day, so by the time I get home, I’m ready to get back to work. I’ll come home, take care of the dogs, have a cup of coffee while having a conversation with whomever is home, and then I open up what I did on my hall duty and work for a couple of hours. Sometimes, I write a lot…sometimes not so much, but I am always moving the book forward. That I’m doing all this while it’s still daylight is a big plus.

So what’s my point? Use the time you have in the best way possible. If you can wait at a lacrosse practice with a netbook or an Alphasmart and knock out a couple of pages, do it. If that’s your social networking time, great, then it won’t be a time sink when you sit yourself down to work on your WIP. If you can’t write while you're waiting at the doctor's office, bring a notebook to jot ideas for your next blog post or bring pages to edit, but use your time well.

My writing productivity hasn’t gone through the roof, but it’s been steady and my new book is now over two-thirds done. I can see the words “The End” on the horizon. My next task is to get the daily exercise in the routine. I don’t know if that one will be as easy.

Getting back to my roots.

2010-05-02T08:53:00.004-04:00

I went to college and was trained as a journalist. I loved my time as a reporter and even though I never went past the local and collegiate level, I felt I learned my craft. It was something I was good at. It came naturally to me and leaving it wasn't easy. But when it came right down to it, I was born to teach and I wanted a life.

However, my writing has not only given me an outlet for my stories it's given me a chance to be the person I used to be. I'm going out on an interview today. I'm plotting a new book and I've gotten in touch with a great source and we're having lunch. I'm looking forward to the conversation, to learning about this woman, and I'm eager to hear what she has to say about my topic. Later I'll take a look at what we talked about and figure out how I might be able to take my information and build something with it.

When I get back to the person I used to be, before the frustrations of teaching, before my husband and kids, I feel like I find a missing piece of myself. I love my family and I know I do good work, and I don't regret any of the decisions I've made, but it's nice to find that at this point in my life, my writing has allowed me to be all things. I can be the teacher, the mom, the wife and on occasion, the journalist. I can enjoy the utter shock on people's faces when I tell them I write romance, and I like knowing they see me differently when they know this. When I finally get published, that will be a whole new rush.

Damn, this is fun.

My Favorite Things

2010-04-18T11:07:00.011-04:00

I'm a reader, and yes, I am a voracious reader of romance novels. I still read good women's fiction from time to time, biography, history and I devour YA simply because of my job as a high school librarian, but romances make me happy. I like that people can fall in love, work their way past the obstacles and find happiness. This doesn't mean I don't like good writing. I love good writing, as well as rich characters, well-crafted settings and stories that keep me interested. I like to laugh and cry and I want to like the characters I read about. To find all those things, I read romance. So imagine my dismay when recently a colleague of mine laughed out loud when I told her I was an aspiring romance writer. "Seriously?" she asked me. "How do you write that stuff? Do you have pirates in your books?" I kept my cool and explained what I wrote (no pirates, no bodice ripping), but I was so taken aback by her lit snobbery, that this post started floating around in my head.

The definition of a romance novel as determined by the Romance Writers of America is as follows: a romance novel must focus on the developing love story between the two main characters and there must be an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending. That doesn't mean there is always a happily ever after, for me it means that I walk away from the book feeling like the characters are going to be okay and are better for whatever the plot has thrown at them.

It's generally believed that romance does not get the respect it deserves because it is literature for women, primarily by women. I can buy that. But chew on these stats for a bit: romance generates over 1.3 billion dollars in book sales every year with about 75 million readers. Romance novels regularly occupy spots on all the major bestseller lists. In short, it is a force to be reckoned with in the publishing industry, and if the genre died, the economic repercussions in bookselling would be huge. (Check out the stats: RWA) Yet the stereotype of the genre and its readers still lives regardless of sales figures…so what is a genre to do? Enter Yale University.

Yale is offering a course on the romance genre. They are not offering this course as a sociology or psychology elective to examine the reader of this type of book, but instead it focuses on the genre as literature. The course had eighteen spaces. Eighty students applied for the spots. The publicity from this course is giving the genre some academic cred and pushing forward the growing movement that romance is, indeed, literature. See this article in the Yale Herald for details.

So what's a writer to do when the lit snob puts you down? Be armed with facts. Talk about the empowerment of women, economic impact, but also talk about the power of love. That's what it's all about and honestly, it's what we all want to believe in. The question to ask yourself isn't why you're reading romance, but instead to find out why the lit snob isn't?

People who know of my addiction are always asking me what I read. So in the interest of being a helpful librarian, here are my top ten romance novels:

10. The Notebook, by Nicholas Sparks. A tearjerker of a story that focuses on Ally and Noah, teen lovers who are separated by class, meddling parents and circumstance. This is a book about the power of soul mates who find a way to be together. If you haven't read it I ask, "Where have you been?"

9. Summer by the Sea, by Susan Wiggs. I can read this book over and over again. Rosa and Alex are childhood friends who became lovers. Their romance ended, but now they are back together and trying to make it work in spite of family objections. He is delicious and she is a force to be reckoned with. Rosa's very successful restaurant is a central part of the book, but their love story is the real treat.

8. Born in Ice, by Nora Roberts. Brianna Concannon may seem like a mild mannered innkeeper, but this book, set in Ireland, tells the story of a woman who will not settle for less than a total commitment from the man she loves. Beautiful setting and glorious characters. This book is the second of Robert's "Irish" or "Born in" Trilogy. All three are excellent, but this one is my favorite.

7. Virgin River, by Robyn Carr. This is the first book in a series that focuses on the fictional, small, Northern California town of Virgin River. This is a town populated by former Marines, so the testosterone level is at Defcon 5. In the first book we meet Jack, a retired sergeant and now bar owner, who has his lightning strike when he meets Melinda. Mel is a nurse midwife, who has moved to town to escape the tragedies she suffered in Los Angeles. He falls for her almost immediately and even though she resists, Jack is so damned perfect and honorable, it's impossible for Mel not to love him.

6. Fools Rush In, by Kristan Higgins. Millie Barnes returns home to Cape Cod to practice medicine and make the unrequited love of her life fall in love with her. Joe Carpenter is a perfect physical specimen and Millie has been obsessed with him since she was a teenager. What Millie begins to realize is that Joe is not the man of her dreams, but a certain cop, who has always been an important part of Millie's life, is exactly what her heart needs. One of Kristan's other books was almost sitting in this spot. Just One of the Guys has an amazing romantic ending, but I was really rooting for Millie to win this one.

5. Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen. Mr. Darcy is the original wealthy, brooding hero. Elizabeth Bennett is headstrong, beautiful and from a less than desirable family. They meet, sparks fly, there are arguments and accusations and all is well at the end. I love this book and whenever I have girls looking for a "different" kind of romance (meaning no vampires, drug addicts or gang members), I give them Pride and Prejudice. They love me for it.

4. Three Wishes, by Barbara Delinsky. Tom Gates is a famous author who has lost his way. Bree Miller is a small town woman who offers him redemption. The two of them combine in a story that has me bawling every time I read it. The ending is unexpected, and heart wrenching, but it's all about the power of love to heal even the most broken hearts and lives.

3. This Heart of Mine, by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. This book combines two of my favorite things, football and children's literature. SEP does this by having a romance develop between playboy quarterback Kevin Tucker and penniless heiress and children's author, Molly Somerville. Molly has had a crush on Kevin forever, so when circumstances throw them together at a camp Kevin has inherited, the crush flares and real feelings develop between the two. I like this book because Kevin has a vulnerable side and it's not just about him saving Molly from herself, Molly saves him, as well.

2. Bet Me, by Jennifer Crusie. I love this book. I read it and decided I want to be Jennifer Crusie when I become a grown-up author. This is the story of Cal and Min. He is gorgeous, successful and has no trouble getting the women to fall all over him. Min is successful, but she's chubby, lacks confidence and has no luck with men. They meet, the stars align and the chubby girl gets to have her love story with the gorgeous guy who can't resist her. The characters have depth, the dialog is rapid fire and there are tears to go along with the laughs. If you have never read romance before, read this one. You'll be hooked.

1. Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. Claire is a WWII nurse, a Brit, who after leaving active duty takes a holiday with her husband to the Scottish Highlands. One morning, when out for a walk, she touches a standing stone and finds herself hurled back in time to 1743. There she meets a tall, broad Scots warrior named Jamie Fraser. 'Nuf said. This book is full of passion, adventure, humor and tenderness. It's also a long book, to the point of being intimidating, but not a page is wasted. I have friends who are die-hard literary fiction fans who list this book as their favorite. The story is epic and unforgettable.

Rules for Writers(and wannabes)

2010-03-28T11:40:00.006-04:00

One item that is always on my desk is a copy of Diana Hacker's book, Rules for Writers. I just bought myself the sixth edition of the book after using my old one to death. The book is a must have for teachers, librarians, students and anyone who decides to play with words. It's full of information on grammar, punctuation, usage, research...anything technical you'd want to know. What it doesn't have is how to deal with the problems that come along when you want to be a professional writer. (I do think the title is a tad misleading, don't you?) There are no rules for wannabes, so I figured I'd take a crack at it.

Rule #1: Realize from the outset that the road to publication is bumpy. Bumpy? That's an understatement. If you're like me you have a full time job. And a family. And a house. And no matter how much your family says they will support your endeavor, they still need you, so interruptions will never go away. The job? Well, eating is good. Paying the bills is good. I need my job even if I would rather spend my days working toward becoming a published novelist and the reality is that even after I get published, I'm keeping the job. At least for a while. So the short version of this rule is this: many things will get in the way of your writing; you have to deal with it.

Rule #2: Your friends and family will think your first completed work is amazing. Many will think this even if it sucks. Do you know why? Because you wrote a book. For most people writing more than ten pages of anything is a feat. If you've written 300 hundred pages of story, even if it's the most ridiculous drivel, they'll tell you that you are the second coming of Dickens. Keep their praise in perspective. They love you and want you to be happy, so try to find people who are more objective to evaluate your work. It's fine to get opinions from friends, and yes, they can be valuable, (I've gotten some great feedback from friends) but also get opinions that are constructive, that are technical and that may require you to rethink your story.

Rule #3: Getting an agent is harder than writing a book. I mean this. It's hell. If you thought getting through the sagging middle of your story was tough, getting an agent makes writing a full length novel feel like child's play. Oh, the agents try to make you feel like you're the one in control here. The rejection letters and e-mails come back with things like "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take a pass" or "I'm not the right person for this" or "You deserve someone who will totally commit to this project." When you break down agent speak these mean, "I don't think your project will sell." Publishing is a business and agents are supposed to sell books to make money for you and for themselves. If an agent doesn't think a book will sell she will not accept you because you turn a pretty phrase. There are always stories of people who found the agent of their dreams and sold their first book in record time. Those people are the exception, not the rule. Be prepared for rejections. Lots of them.

Rule #4: Trends do sell and while everyone always says to write the book of your heart, people buy trends. One thing in particular is bothering the hell out of me, and it has to do with the YA market. So I will say this: don't try to write for the Young Adult market unless you have a YA voice. Where did this come from? YA lit is hot. Ever since Stephanie Meyer birthed the Twilight series full-grown from her dreams, YA has surged. Some agents only want YA authors. However, I can tell you as a high school librarian, not everyone is cut out to write YA. I've read more junk in the past two years than I care to tell you about. I've also read some really good work. You need to have a strong teen voice, so no matter how hot the trend is, no matter how much you think you should do this, be honest with yourself. Don't write YA because you see it as a way to sell a book. Write YA because that is what you were meant to do.

That honesty thing goes for everyone. If you write to a trend, any trend, that's fine, but make sure you are writing honestly. Agents, editors, and readers will thank you for it.

Rule #5: Your ego will be battered. You will feel like a failure. There's no way around this. But if you really want to be a writer, don't give up. Don't ever give up. Just remember your three "R's": Rethink, rewrite, resubmit.

I have a query letter that is failing me miserably. It's time to rip it apart and start over. I have my books, my ideas and my nerve all ready to go. Wish me luck.

The Flashing Cursor

2010-03-13T17:27:00.006-05:00

I have this idea in my head, but I’m having trouble getting things down on paper. So I spent the last two hours staring at a flashing cursor and writing things in my notebook. I have character names, ages, and professions. I’m having trouble with the location, but I think I’m staying local in this one—it will cut down on my research.

But I am considering a big change. My unsold manuscripts, the one I’m shopping now and the one that almost made it, were contemporary single titles. One is 110,000 words and one is 95,000 words. The stories are complex, multi-layered, have a good group of characters and are getting me nowhere. So I’m wondering if I have to bite the bullet and write for the category market. My word count would drop some, my stories would be more focused and I might actually have a chance to sell.

The problem is I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve made it a point to start reading more 'traditional' romances. Sorry lit snobs, no bodice rippers. Instead of my usual fare of Luanne Rice, Kristin Hannah and Susan Wiggs, I’ve been devouring Kristan Higgins (love her books), Jennifer Crusie, and Susan Mallery. They write well, their characters are vivid and the stories are fun and well-crafted. The books tend to be a little shorter, have fewer sub-plots and fewer characters. They write straight romance and they are funny. Really funny. And I don’t know if I can be funny. Damn.

You want an abusive ex-husband? Done. An orphaned kid? I can do that. A stalker? I’m your girl. But I don’t know if I can write humor.

The flashing cursor awaits. I have the idea, and a general sense of how I should proceed. I’ve even mapped out a simple plot skeleton, which I never do, to keep me on track. I’ve eliminated extraneous tragedies, and I’ve basically decided that the female main character has only one enemy in her quest to find true love—herself.

Kind of like me in my quest to be published. Damn.

Age

2010-02-17T13:25:00.006-05:00

I’m not a big shopper, but I do like nice things and once and a while I treat myself to a pretty bag or a pair of designer sunglasses. I don’t like paying full price, so I shop sales and I get alerts from some great off-price websites. My favorite is RueLaLa. If you don’t know about RueLaLa, let me know and I will fill you in, but the short version is I will find beautiful, designer items at their two day boutiques that I can actually afford. (Two kids in college, need I say more) I love when Rue has a Vera Bradley boutique, or when Kate Spade comes up for sale and I’ve gotten my daughters some beautiful clothes.

However, today was an eye opener for me and a wake-up call that I was indeed getting older. Rue has an expensive skin care line in one of their boutiques today. You know, creams and lotions and cleansers. Anti-aging products and make-up designed to fix our flaws. It was all there. It was pricey stuff and I could get items at good prices. And I got excited. Really excited.

I got excited over moisturizer. Oh. My. God.

So the question is: why? Why am I excited at the prospect of getting some expensive remedy for my crow’s feet? And the answer is simple: I’m fighting the aging process with everything I have. I have no problem with getting older as long as I don’t look older. I sincerely doubt I’d have actual surgery, that’s just me, but I'm not above using other methods to keep my skin looking young.

What else am I doing? I’m going out in a little while to join a gym. I want to lose some weight and feel fit. I’m healthy and I want to stay that way. And if any of you actually believed all that, I have a bridge to sell. You want to know my biggest motivator? My 30^th high school reunion is coming up this summer and while I have no delusions that I will be slipping into a single digit dress size any time soon, I would like to look better before I face these people. I’m vain. That’s it. The fitness and the health are nice side benefits, but I don’t want to be embarrassed. And the thing is, I don’t know why I care. I haven’t seen most of these people in thirty years. I have a long list of accomplishments, both personal and professional and that should tell people who I am. But yet I worry and I think so much of it is tied to the insecurity I felt when I was in high school. I wasn’t bold, I wasn’t brave and I worried all the time about what people thought.

We've forgetten how we felt when we were seventeen, but I have a feeling those memories are rushing back for a lot of people right now. Maybe it’s not a bad thing. If it gets me to exercise, I know I will feel better. I’ll be able to climb the hills where my daughter goes to college and not feel winded. My surgically repaired knee won’t give me trouble and guess what—I won’t just have to limit my purchases to bags and sunglasses and skin creams on my favorite sale sites. Maybe I could buy a dress, or a pretty sweater or a belt. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

It’s possible I could change how I look and still worry. Wrinkles, dress sizes? It might not matter. I might still be an insecure mess where high school is concerned. But for now, I'll let the insecurity motivate me. It’s not hurting anyone and in the long run it will help me.

What did I buy today? Make-up. It made me happy and it made me realize that some of the things we experience when we're young never go away. They go dormant and sneak up on us when we least expect it. I will never look seventeen again. I will never look like my yearbook picture, but then again neither will anyone else.

Maybe this all means that I'm still a work in progress. I'm not done growing or changing. So it's possible the insecurity I'm feeling is a good thing if it pushes me to better myself and deal with some of the demons. There are times in our lives that we have these personal epiphanies. Something triggers self-awareness. The birth of a child, the death of someone important or facing your past can bring on a sense of understanding about who you are and who you want to be.

For the most part, I'm happy with the person I am. I have a wonderful husband, great kids, good friends and I do good work that I care about. Not a bad lot in life, even with some extra pounds and wrinkles. The challenge now is to embrace how I got here and accept the fact that I still have a way to go. Don't we all?

I'm still joining the gym.

Tweaking

2010-02-16T09:12:00.002-05:00

Sorry about the format changes, but I wanted to tweak the look of the blog. Well? What do you think?

Submissions, rejections and sleepless nights--oh my!

2010-02-14T02:02:00.005-05:00

Sleepless nights. We’ve all had them. We toss and turn and watch the minutes click by on the clock. It can be one of the most frustrating experiences. We have to sleep to function the next day and each minute, each hours makes it harder to fall asleep. We get tense, our minds race, we get agitated and then forget it…all chance of sleep is gone.

I can’t sleep right now. (Obvious, huh?) My darling hubby is out cold, bless his heart, but not me. So instead of watching the late-night Olympics, here I sit, in my comfy chair at the computer writing this entry about not sleeping. Ironic. What I will do is open a manuscript I’ve been working on. This book has giving me trouble for a while. I like the characters, but they haven't been talking to me. I'm hearing some whispers, but I need these guys to start screaming so I can finish telling their story. I’m 50,000 words into it and now I just don’t know where to take them. When I joke about the voices in my head, I’m really not joking. Try not to let that scare you. In order to write, to be that character, I need to hear them. I take what I hear and put it on the page. I don’t have novels come to me in a dream like a certain sparkling Vampire writer, but I do see images; I hear how my characters sound, I imagine what they smell, taste and feel, and it becomes a story.

I've been doing this for a long time. I always wrote. My dad will mention from time to time how when I was a toddler I would take books off the shelf in the living room and write my name on the title page. There is a copy of Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations out there someplace with “Jbon” scrawled in it. I think that’s telling. I always knew, even at two years old, that I would be an author. Why should I wait to get my name in a book? But now I am waiting… and waiting…and waiting.

So here I am, it's the middle of the night and I’m waiting for these characters to start talking, but I’m also waiting for rejections. There it is: the revelation. Honestly, it's waiting for the rejections that's keeping me up at night. I’ve got a bunch of query letters—some with pages, some without—floating around with agents and I’m waiting for them to get back to me and tell me that they just aren’t right for my project. I have gotten one request for a partial, but other than that, I’ve gotten a lot of things that say, “Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m afraid I have to pass.” Depressing, discouraging and yet I keep trying. I’m proud of the book I’m shopping around right now. It’s good work, but I have to find the person who agrees with me. That’s the hard part and that’s what has my brain on overdrive.

I could quit. I could pack it in and find something else to do with my time. But every time I think about doing that, there’s a whisper, a voice pushing me to tell the story. And I give in. I crumble and sit at the keyboard and I write. I follow this damned dream. It may be futile, I may never get published, but I have to believe in myself before I can get anyone else to believe in me.

I know I'm not dealing with anything major here. This isn't life or death, or world peace, but it's important to me. I have a lot of myself invested in this. Now, if I can get my characters to start talking up a storm that would be perfect. I could forget about the submissions and the rejections and worry about the story. The story is at the heart of all of this and believe me, that’s always much more fun.

Snow Days

2010-02-10T21:50:00.001-05:00

Do you remember how it was? The flakes would start to fall or you’d hear the forecast and you wondered if you would have school the next day. The pajamas would be turned inside out, we’d say a prayer, get all our homework done and then wait. We’d listen to the radio in the morning, to the endless list of schools, and hope we didn’t miss hearing ours was closed. When the word came, it was bliss. When I was young it meant playing outside, sledding down the street, building a snowman or having a snowball fight. In high school it meant blessed sleep. Now, it’s all about time.

I wonder if we ever get over it. I have a snow day tomorrow. My second one in a row and I am so very happy. It’s one of the perks of my job that if the roads are bad, more than likely I will not have to go to work. I can sleep in, stay in my pajamas all day, catch up on my reading, or clean a long neglected closet…whatever I want. I know I could be one of those people who have to brave bad weather and go to work regardless. My best friend is a nurse and she will be out on the road at 5:30 tomorrow morning to get to work for her 7 am shift.

I’m lucky and I know it.

What always surprises me is how teachers are about snow days. We compulsively check websites to see if the district is closed and when the call comes, there is a massive status update on Facebook. We’re giddy and as bad as the kids. I guess that’s part of the personality, part of us that never grew up. I can live with that; being an adult is tedious.

For me, tomorrow will be a quiet day. My kids are older, so I won’t have to keep them occupied. My son will sleep in, my oldest daughter will make her way to classes, and my husband will go to work. As I nurse a cup of coffee, I’ll worry about my middle girl braving the hills at Lehigh to get to her 8 am class. Then I’ll decide what to do with my found time. In this world where we are slaves to our BlackBerry's and our schedules, finding time is a luxury and something we should do for ourselves more often. Once in a while, the weather does me a favor.

I could attack one of those neglected closets, and Lord knows there’s plenty of laundry to do, but I’m thinking, maybe, I won’t make a plan and just see what happens. After all, it’s a snow day--a gift. I can do anything I want.

Art and Life

2010-02-06T08:37:00.003-05:00

Last night, I watched a few of the senior drama students agonize over their own productions in our annual showcase called "Director's Cut." The kids write, cast and direct the one act plays and, of course, there were tears, misunderstandings, frustrations, angry words and confusion, but in the end it all worked out and the plays went well. I won't say the productions were perfect--adorably flawed would be a better description, but overall they did a good job.

The senior directors learned a lot from the experience and some of it had to do with the people in their lives. They learned who was easy to work with, who respected others and that sometimes working with your friends isn't all it's cracked up to be. They learned that if something appears easy, there is usually a tremendous amount of preparation behind the scenes so it will look that way.

Producing the shows ended up being a good life lesson for the three directors because they learned that life is all about layers. What people see, whether it be a show, a paper for a class, a display in a mall, a movie, a book, or a night out with friends, each "thing" has some complexity and if it goes well it's because something went into making it so before hand.

Last night, as they walked out of the theater feeling good about how the shows went, I hope they remember how hard it was and that the good feelings came from the hard work and the frustration of getting those layers in place. I hope they realize that they put themselves on the line, that they risked failure and succeeded.

Taking chances, leaving our comfort zone and really embracing risk is when growth takes place. I'm a firm believer that I will be "growing-up" forever. There will always be new challenges, new things to learn and new ways to put myself out there. The young directors just began their adult journey, learning more about the people in their lives and about themselves.

It's a beginning and as they look down the road they should see that their lives will be made up of layers, just like the plays they directed--there will be a cast of characters, things to juggle and problems to solve.

And there will always be something new to learn.

Hall duty and writing.

2010-02-02T21:15:00.005-05:00

I work in a high school. People whine and complain, but actually, being a teacher is a really good gig. Most of us like our jobs, we like the majority of the kids and the annoyances pale next to the really good things that happen. However, one of the things that sets off teachers like bottle rockets are duty periods--study hall, cafeteria duty and hall duty, to name a few.

Librarians, as a rule, won't get a duty period because we need the flexibility in our schedule to teach; however, this year I got lucky--I have hall duty. To be honest, I haven't had a hall duty in years. I keep joking with everyone that that last time was 1989. That's a lie, of course, it was 1992. I've changed schools three times since 1992. I've gone from high school to elementary to high school again and I went from being a classroom teacher to a librarian.

In 1992, airbags weren't standard on all cars, cell phones were rare, and the Internet was virtually unknown. Digital readers? iTouch? E-mail? Nope.

But, for the most part, the kids are the same.

This is going to be an interesting study and I didn't expect it to be. I can read or work on edits and not feel guilty. I see people I don't normally see and I get to observe.

Writing requires observation. People, places and things all become fodder for the writer. The sound heels make in a hall. The smell of a hundred kids who have just come from phys ed. Anything and everything can become part of a story. The change of environment is good for me in that respect. Down the line I'll be setting one of my books in a high school, so the images, sounds and smells are all being filed away.

I never realized how much I stored up. My life's experiences come flooding out when I put words on a page. I think about my character Laura in Games--she's an insecure sixteen-year-old. She doesn't know where she fits in and when she makes a mistake, she makes a doozy, but we learn a lot about her. I think we were all Laura once upon a time, some of us just dealt with it better than others. I have a journal full of things I felt when I was sixteen, and when I wrote this character I revisited some painful days and I'm better for it.

Life has become my personal hall duty. I make a point each day to observe quietly and learn about my surroundings, learn about the people who are crossing my path and those who are on the periphery. Hall duty is about making the best of a situation. So here's how I see this: I appreciate a cloudy day as much as a sunny day, a good cry as much as a good laugh and I try to enjoy each day for what it is, not for what it isn't. Yes, there are times I hate Monday mornings, but in order to practice my craft, I need to experience a sucky Monday once in a while.

I'd like to be tucked away in my library, but getting out on a regular basis is good, too.

Beginnings

2010-02-01T22:17:00.002-05:00

I suppose we all have to start somewhere. But I feel like I've been at the beginning of this career forever. In reality, it has been a decade. I started, I stopped and I started again, but I don't know that I ever really stopped. I've always played with words. I've always been a writer.

I have these milestones I'm facing. I'm approaching twenty-five years as a teacher; my children are growing up and in a year my youngest will be off to college. My thirtieth high school reunion is this summer and I feel like I need to fulfill some destiny. I pulled out old yearbooks and found poems I'd written in junior high. People saw me as the class "poet laureate" in 1977. Girls wept at my sentimentality and I garnered a lot of attention. All throughout junior high and high school I never felt important, but my writing, and the way people responded to it, made me feel special.

I floated through school. I participated in activities and I had friends, but I wasn't the girl everyone was going to remember. I pretty much flew below the radar until college. It was then that I bloomed. I was a journalist--I wrote for local papers, interviewed famous athletes and had a press pass at the Coliseum. When I became a teacher, I felt like I had come home and I've done good work in the classroom. However, my claim to fame as a fifteen-year-old was that I was a poet, a storyteller, a writer, and that's something that has never left me.

I need to find that girl again. I rewrote a book I finished five years ago and I'm now submitting it to agents. I've had one request for a few chapters, a few rejections and some submissions are floating around out there in various inboxes. I need to be fearless; I need to be the person that took a chance, bared her soul and let the whole ninth grade see her heart. I don't think anyone who read my poems back then knew how scared I was to have them published in the yearbook, or how happy I felt when everyone loved what I wrote.

I want that again...I want the fear and the happiness. I want to be what I've always dreamed of being and I have no reason to wait any longer.