The End of the Middle

7/31/13.  In the middle of the night, I typed the last sentence of my Young Adult novel "In the Middle".  I celebrated and felt free and easy for approximately half a day, then I flipped back open my laptop and fixed a section that didn't feel exactly right.  Because that's what writers do--they always feel like something could be fixed or rearranged for more impact.  It's a sickness.  A strange and wonderful sickness.

The beginning of August marks the end of July's Camp NaNoWriMo, 31 days of writers worldwide creating.  Campers are encouraged to pick their own word count goal (mine was 26,364 words, oddly specific because that magical number brought my novel to 50k words) and go for it.  I rounded out July with 38,406 words (62028 words in total), 12k above my goal.  I'll take it.

In March I began this journey with Lucy, an orphaned teenager burdened by the weight of her parents' deaths.  Lucy was angry and unpleasant, scarred and in pain.  She wasn't the only one in the little town of Mitte who struggled with loss and regret.  In the Middle forced me to look at death and remorse from a handful of angles, mourn with each person, and then offer a bit of hope.  Perhaps it will never be published, let alone read and understood by an audience, but recording their story took me on a journey I will always remember.

To Lucy, Oliver, Jasper, Perdita, Letty, Duke, Magnolia, Tessa, Johanna, Norman, Millie, Sadie, Angus, Sal, Bud, Vera--even Derek and Tanya...  Thank you for waking me up.

Memorial

Even if I close my eyes to the darkness, someone must stand watch.
Even if I shake my head in disapproval, someone must stand watch.
Even as I delight in warmth and comfort, someone must stand watch.
Though they deserve all we have and more, someone must stand watch.

To the men and women who have stepped forward to serve our country, and the families who endure so much to make it possible, thank you.  'Thank you' doesn't seem to be enough to repay you for your service, your bravery, and your sacrifice, but it's all I know to do.  Bless each and every one of you!

Happy Memorial Day.

I Don't Ask For Much

You may notice that I've added a "Make a Donation" button off to the side of my blog here and on my author page in a galaxy far, far away.  It's not meant to offend anyone--because I know money is tight the world around.... but sometimes we don't have because we don't ask.  Or, more accurately, we don't have because no one knows there's a need in the first place.

This blog post and Amanda Palmer's TED talk inspired this blog post.  I'm too tired to do anything but borrow Amanda and Ksenia's work, but I am happy to have found both of them on the Interwebs tonight.

No pressure, folks.  Just putting it out there and seeing what happens.

xoxo!

My Life In One Photo

Except that lady.  I have no clue who that lady is.

(Thanks Tim!)

Falling In Love

I feel bad for those of you who don't fall in love every day.

Maybe I'm a sap, deep down inside.  It's always been this way.  Sometimes it is embarrassing, but usually I think it's one of my better traits.  As cynical and sarcastic as I might seem, people do matter to me.  Odds are, you're one of the people who matter.  And I hope that, even just a little, I have mattered to you.

~ Putting on gloves to make sure my best friend's baby doesn't fall on the floor.
~ Is it Mardi Gras?
~ Benchpressing three women and still not hitting the spot, except when it comes to pocket-dialing 9-1-1.
~ Can I get you a glass of water?
~ Peach tea--I don't drink tea, but you can try to convert me!--and, please, punch me in the stomach as soon as that contraction ends.
~ That was not a firm, warm hug.  What a load of....
~  Uhhhh, are you anywhere near a hospital?
~ I'm sorry, Jen.  You're just not strong enough.  Go get him from the lobby.  [reuniting a banished husband with a mom who needed every ounce of his strength.  To date, one of the most beautiful and exhausting experiences I've ever had]
~You're doing wonderfully.  Say hello to my lactation consultant friend.
~ Here, honey.  I just Googled this labor position.
~ Come sit down next to me... and... it's okay your water broke.  These weren't my good Crocs.
~ Blissful immediate skin-to-skin bonding instead of hours of isolation [true for several of my families].  Happy sigh!  My work here is done.
~ You've never met this woman before?  Nope.  Nice to meet you.  Did you want the vitamin K shot?
~ This is the spreadsheet I want you to fill out.  Do you have a finance degree, by any chance?  No?  Well....  Good luck.
~ The epitome of the perfect Bradley method family.  I wish I had a magic wand.
~ A family that became like my own.  Sorry about your sweater.
~ Kids, you're up just in time to meet your new brother.
~ Let your body move in whatever way it needs to.
~ I'm sorry I ate all of your hummus and you can see my sister's bra.  I made you this cute hat(?).... scarf.
~ The Jewish community places high value on sarcasm.  [Now I understand why I function so well within the Jewish community.]
~ Now that I've found you, I may never leave. Stupid GPS.
~ Sweet Virginia, and an even-sweeter family.
~ Happy anniversary to you.  It's not often I get invited to a romantic dinner for five.
~ Baby Moe.  Oh....  Baby Moe.
~ I recognize the toddler in the visitor lounge.  That can't be good....
~ Sifting a baby right out.  Mimosas and chocolate chip pancakes for all!
~ Advocating so well for yourself that you nearly shoot the eyebrows off of your Ghandi-like midwife.
~ Like a Boss.
~ Eating Snickerdoodle bars with your husband even though you are fasting.  I'm glad you are my friend and will forgive me when all is said and done.  <3
~ They keep telling me my baby is smart, and yet she wants to stay breech.  Is she smart or isn't she?  (It turns out, she was smart and so were they).  Oversharers = my peeps.
~Fist-bump between pushes.... and ice cream and chocolate sauce solves everything.

~ You were never broken.  (And I greatly appreciate anyone who giggles at a good "balls" joke.)

~ Seven diapers in one hour is no joke.

~ You did Fantasti*con.... and I'm not just saying that to be creepy.  :-)

There are more moments than time and words to share, but I add to this rich mosaic one piece at a time.  It may be nonsense or silly to you, but to me, it is the reason I do what I do.  It is why I return the e-mails, make the calls, drive the miles, sip the lattes, and wedge myself into impossible pretzels in the corner of that birthing room.  Because I meet and fall in love with hopeful people all the time.

We Meet Again. Now What?

Tonight I did it.  I finally completed--in 2-1/2 months--what I was hoping would only take me one.  But who's counting, anyway?

Book 2 Draft 1 is complete at 50,004 words.  It is not perfect, but I never expected it would be.  Show me someone who writes the perfect first draft, and I'll point out that it probably took them 20 years to do it.

There is a lot of smoothing to be done, details to be added, and probably I will end up with a completely different story when I eventually go through and do a second draft of the thing.....  Kind of like when I did a second draft of my FIRST book.  But right now I feel better about this one.  I think that's just denial.  Time and space will reveal how horrible it actually is.  For the moment, I am proud.

Thank you to the hundreds of people who endured my word count posts on Facebook.  I know it is one of the many reasons you hide me in your newsfeed, and I love you still.  Don't expect me to like the accomplishments you are proud of, but we're still okay.  Haha.  But, seriously, thank you for your encouragement--especially those who have no idea what I'm talking about most of the time.  Yes, I realize that's most of you.

(Is it weird that I still get surprised when people say, "You're writing a book?"  I've kept it this big secret and all.... ;-)  )

And even though I'm not 100% he deserves it, I'd like to say thank you to my amazing husband.  He's my biggest fan, always, and yet he gives me so much grief about my starting on a second book when I haven't published the first.  There's a method to my madness this time, dude.  Take a chill pill.  Just for your impatience, maybe I'll start writing installment three.

The flu has made me testy, my bad.

Tomorrow--today, officially--I will rest and do whatever it is when I'm not worried about self-imposed deadlines.  It likely involves mountains of laundry and even bigger mountains of pet fur lurking in every corner of the house.  Exotic, I know.

Unless I decide to do something really crazy like enter this contest, in which case I would have to forego said piles of things and figure out stuff I've never done before (pitch and picking an excerpt).

Tonight, I sleep.

Just the Facts, Ma'am.

WARNING:  Letting my geek flag fly uninhibited for this one.  I usually try to be a little bit more covert.  Moving on....

I began this blog back in June of this year as a way to write about things that come up that are too long or personal for Facebook fodder.  Also, as I go through the process of writing my first (and now my second) book, I wanted to get my feet wet, in terms of building a following with readers and other authors.

I'm ridiculously horrible at Math, but I love analytics.  There's something addictive about checking on the statistics of my blog and my business website and seeing how many people visit, where they're coming from, what pages catch their eye, etc.  It's humbling too, because I am aware that more than half of my blog posts are mindless babbling and the other half are me mourning my horse.  Certainly there are better uses of one's time, but I appreciate that so many have spent a little of theirs here anyway.

Over the past six months my blog has received 1701 pageviews.  I'd hoped to hit 2k by the end of the year, but there was really no reason for that number in particular.  Most of my 70 blog posts receive an average of 20 views, with the highest ever being 120 views for my entry the day I lost Moe ("Broken").  For successful bloggers, 1000 views is a slow day, but I'm happy with where I am.  Maybe someday I will be interesting enough to hit triple+ digits.

Thank you for stopping by and bumping up my numbers--for humoring my inner geek on this one thing.  Even though you guys rarely comment, I know people are reading, which encourages me to keep sharing (and oversharing).

If you've stuck with me this far....  I'd love to hear from you, the twenty-or-so peeps who take the time to at least blindly click to this blog every few days--what do you like about this blog?  What would you like to see more of?

The End Is Here

First of all, I know every one of you is sick of hearing about this novel (and most of the other things I go on about).  Word counts.  Chapter numbers.  The rather strange experience of having people living inside your head.  All of that.

Thank you for looking past that.

I realize that half of you will like what I've written, and half of you will think it is rubbish and will make fun of me behind my back.  It's okay.  What I've written isn't earth-shattering, but very few things are.  For me, it is a journey, a challenge, a dream.

Thank you for letting me be excited about my dream.

I'll probably never be a best-seller.  My book isn't about vampires, werewolves, zombies, or post-apocolyptic kids thrown into a death match.  There's no swearing, no sex, no drugs, no booze.

Thank you for letting me be PG.

I just can't believe it.

Thank you to Courtney and Tim who have stuck with me to the end of this one, and Rosie who suffered through the atrocity that was Draft 1.  Thank you to my muses, Moe and Ish.  And, most importantly, thank you, God.