Perceptions and Illusions

Fair Game begins

2010-01-28T09:46:00.000-08:00

My brain needed a lot of stretching before it would work again, so I was unable to make myself write Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday.

But today I had success. Here is a section of what I did today. It is the first part of Chapter 1 of a new book. It is a rough draft. There will be a few rewrites before it is in the final form. The working title is "Fair Game".
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Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

"Not now!” Autumn muttered as she placed her foot on the first step of the staircase. “I don’t have time to dig through my backpack to find my phone. I don’t want to be late the first day.”

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

“Another one? It must be important. No one sends two texts in a row unless it is important.”

She paused at the bottom of the wide staircase and looked to the top. Once she got into the school, her cell would have to stay hidden in her backpack. The school had a strict policy about cell phone use within the building. If she were caught with her phone out, even if she were just reading a text, her phone would be confiscated.

“Maybe I should check. It could be important. I still have time. I won’t be late if I hurry—"

The backpack of a passing student slammed into her, making her twirl around and lose her balance. As Autumn spun on one leg, she tried to regain her balance by stomping the raised foot hard to the ground—right on the foot of a huge boy with frizzy hair.

The very same boy who had been so inconsiderate to slam into her.

The mass of muscles grabbed his foot and groaned. “What do you think you are doing, you klutz! That hurt.”

Autumn just stood there paralyzed. This boy could easily crush her like a bug.

“Aren’t you going to say you are sorry?” the mountain sneered, still looking at his aching foot.

Autumn gulped, and looked down to hide the fear that had begun to course through her body. Was she going to be trammeled on her first day of school? Autumn was not a fighter, and if this boy decided to start punching she wouldn’t have a chance.

“Well, where is your apology, little girl?” growled the angry giant. “You stomped on my foot!”

Autumn hated to be called little, but decided to let it slide. Every muscle in her body told her that she was in danger and needed to think her way out of this situation. She cautiously raised her head an inch to peek at the mass of students around her. Several were looking her way curiously, but none seemed prepared to help if it got ugly.

She was on her own. A rare occurrence for Autumn. She was the youngest of four.

Thinking quickly, Autumn remembered several books she had read that implied that a bully was a coward who was trying to convince himself, and everyone else, that he was a rough tough bad guy who was afraid of nothing. The trick was to stand up to the bully from day one so that he realized that you weren’t easy prey. If you showed fear, or any sign of weakness, you would become a prime target on the bully’s radar. A sure set-up for terror and fear on a daily basis.

But reading that bullies were cowards and acting on it were two different things—very different. What if she stood up to him and he punched her? He was twice her size, he could do some serious damage.

“So what’s it going to be little girl? Are you going to apologize, or do I need to teach you some manners?”

Autumn took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and looked the bully straight in the eye.
“You only got what you deserved, you big oaf. I was minding my own business when you knocked me over with your oversized backpack. Why don’t you learn how to watch where you are going?”

The bully stared at Autumn’s face for several minutes, no expression whatsoever showing on his face. It was as if all his thoughts had retreated into an inner fortress, possibly to regroup.

Without another word, the giant turned on his heal and continued up the staircase, shoving anyone unfortunate to be in his path out of his way.

Mental flexing

2010-01-25T08:43:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I awoke with the desire to get out my computer and immerse myself in a new story. It was a glorious feeling, one that I have missed these last few months. I really haven't written since November--I have been going through a dry spell.

I find Sundays not good days for writing, so I pushed aside the craving to write and went about my day. Rather crankily, I must admit. Monday would be the day to begin again. Monday morning bright and early I could flex those mental muscles and dive into the wonderful world of imagination.

I could barely wait!

Well, today is Monday and my mental muscles remain unflexed. I simply cannot get started. I have been at my computer for over an hour and have not written a single word.

I have checked my email, read a few web articles, given my opinion about the worst book I have ever read--and updated this blog.

But the story--the one that is aching to be written--remains locked away.

To be honest, I'm not too awfully worried, yet. I have been through this before, so I know what to do. I simply need to stretch out those poor muscles that have been unused for the last few months. Loosen them up a bit. Do a little freewriting, brainstorming, or...or...or something.

Come on brain! You can do it! Get that circulation flowing. Move those thoughts around.

You have had a long enough vacation, it is time to get back to work.

There is a book to be written.

Depression by the book

2010-01-22T13:00:00.000-08:00

Eeeeek! I have an emergency. A book emergency.

It is Viridia. I checked on the little fella today, and was shocked to find that it had gone into a deep decline. I had no clue it was feeling so depressed.

Well, to be honest, I didn't even know that books could get depressed. I thought they just sat happily on shelves waiting to be read.

But look for yourself. Viridia is in such a bad shape that I could barely recognize it.

I feel so guilty. It is all my fault. I asked loads of people to review Braumaru and Cerulea, but Viridia got left out, neglected, and pushed aside.

There is only one thing to do, one way to bring Viridia back from the brink. But I cannot do it myself. I need your help.

It is a dangerous mission, but if you have courage I know you will succeed.
Viridia can be saved.

All you need to do is write a review on Amazon. Show Viridia that you care.

And since Viridia is a green book, you will be helping our planet be a little greener, so we all win!

DTA cover graphic

2010-01-14T10:54:00.000-08:00

I finally created a graphic for the cover of the Department of Temporal Adjustment that suits my purposes. It truly captures the feel of the book, which I think is very important.

I hope it also captures your attention, and makes your fingers itch to pick up the book and read it!

There is a lot more work to do before the cover is complete--title, author, back, etc.--but having this done makes me feel a lot better.

To trust, or not to trust

2010-01-10T08:52:00.001-08:00

I--like many people in this big bad world--have had my share of times I trusted the wrong person. Times I took a person at his/her word, and believed that that person would act in a manner consistent with my moral code.

Only to have my faith in humanity cracked and my heart broken just a bit.

Silly of me, I know, since I am old enough to know better. It is one of the lessons that children learn while still in school.

One instance I remember vividly did happen in school--only it was college, not elementary school.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called the University of Washington, I was studying to be an archaeologist. I had the good fortune to get into a practicuum at the Burke Museum, and I was having a blast. I loved every minute of it. The comraderie of the students and teachers, the professional atmosphere in the archaeology lab--but I especially loved that I got a chance to curate a 1949 field school all by myself. It was heavenly.

In the spring, we went on an overnight field trip to Odette, an archaeological site on Neah Bay. To get there we had to drive for several hours, park our van, and hike 4 hours out to the site, which was right on the water. We were all warned to bring plenty of water, since there was nothing at our campsite by sand, mud, and trees. If we wanted something, we had to hike it in.

I had prepared for the trip carefully. As a mother of 4, I was used to making sure that I had everything I could possible need. Change of clothing, check. Snacks, check. A gallon of water, check. Tent, check. Sleeping bag, check.

I was ready.

As I was repacking my backpack in preparation to begin the 4 hour hike, one of my classmates, a young man of about 22, voiced concern about the heaviness of my pack. He said that he was used to hiking with a pack, and that he would gladly lighten my load.

Right on top was my gallon of water. He pointed to the water, and said that he could easily add that to his pack, and he would be glad to transport it for me to the campsite.

I looked at him and noted that he seemed to be an athletic guy, and since he was at least 8 inches taller and 40 pounds heavier, he probably would be better able to handle the weight of the water. Besides, I had a couple of smaller bottles with me for the hike, so I thanked him and handed over the water.

The hike was exhilirating and beautiful. For the sake of convenience, we split up and all went at our own pace. Although I was not even close to the first of the group to make it to the site, I was proud to discover that I was far from the last person. I held my own.

I set up my tent and unpacked my backpack. Noticing that I had drunk all of the water I had carried on the walk, I went in search of the nice young man who had offered to carry my main supply of water.

Imagine my dismay when I found him, and he informed me that he had drunk it all. The entire gallon.

I had no water the rest of the day, no water that night, and no water for the 4 mile hike back to our vans.

A crack reverbrated through my very being as a new crevice formed its way across my faith in humanity, and through my heart.

Which didn't help my thirst one bit.

But who could I blame, but myself. I was old enough to know better.

Resolutions for 2010

2009-12-31T12:14:00.000-08:00

It is that time of year again--time for me to get out paper and pencil (or keyboard and computer) so that I can figure out what I really want from the coming year. Yes, you guessed it. It is time to create the handy-dandy list known as the New Year's Resolution.

Now don't get me wrong. This isn't the only time of year I make lists. I am constantly listing out what I want to do during the day, the steps I need to complete a project, groceries that need to be bought. But this time of year I make a special list that in no way compares to all thosee normal, mundane lists. This list is fun, and without pressure.

Because come on guys, we all know the secret of the New Year's Resolution ...that any list made on the last day of the year has magical powers. Since a last-day-of-the-year list comes at an end, instead of a beginning, it can be safely ignored without guilt. It's sole purpose is simply to be written, and then forgotten. And because of this, it is the best list in the world.

So here goes. In 2010 I resolve to:

Clean my house top to bottom at least once a week.
Learn to hate chocolate.
Give up coffee.
Learn to detest potatoes of all sorts, but especially potato chips.
Brush my teeth five times a day, whether they need it or not.
Shave my head.
Have my husband cook dinner every other night.
Have my youngest daughter cook dinner every night my husband is not cooking.
Learn to like horror movies.
Learn to like flying.
Learn to like being cold.
Learn five foreign languages this year.
Go fishing.
Hug the troll under the Fremont Bridge.
Teach the Jupiterians how not to play practical jokes.

There, that should do it. Wish me luck with my resolutions!

-And-

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

P.S. You might notice that I didn't mention whole categories of my life that typically show up on the New Year's Resolution List, like health, or important career goals. I left those out on purpose. They are already on other lists, and I don't want to run the risk of forgetting about them.

Think about it. You might want to do the same.

And the girl said...

2009-12-23T17:03:00.000-08:00

I overheard the following conversation in a department store yesterday while doing my Christmas shopping.

Cashier: Oh, you are getting this for your daughter? Is she giving you a hard time yet?
Customer: She was born giving me a hard time. I took her to her first concert this weekend.
Cashier: Really? Who was playing?
Customer: It was Jingle Bell Bash. You know, put on by 106.1.
Cashier (with a sneer): In that case, I wouldn't know. I don't listen to American music.

Can we say "pretentious", boys and girls?

And let me take this opportunity to say
MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Jokey Jupiterians at work

2009-12-15T08:05:00.001-08:00

Those jokey Jupiterians are hard at work again, unfortunately.

There is some kind of proportion formula working between me and the Jupiterians. The more important a project is to me, the more likely the Jupiterians will exert themselves to play practical jokes. And right now my project is right up there with...with...well, it is so important I don't know what to compare it to.

I am working on the cover for the Department of Temporal Adjustment, and I am well aware that people do judge books by their covers. So I have to get it right. The cover must be superb and perfect. It must exude humor and excitement, without being funny or amateurish.

And while I am working hard to create the perfect book cover for the DTA--and it must be perfect since its job is to entice readers to first pick up and then read the book--the Jupiterians are throwing every possible distraction at me imaginable. Packages, all of a sudden, require signatures. The dog barks, and when I look, no one is around. My computer dies suddenly due to lack of power, even though I had plugged it in a few minutes previously.

But Jupiterians, I will prevail. Give me your worst.

Or, on second thought, you don't really have to. You've distracted me quite enough. I get the point, you are funny, funny, little Jupiterians.

What's that you say? You want me to put one of you, a Jupiterian, on the front cover? But the book is not about...

Oh, I see. You would be satisfied with life size image, one no humans would even notice.

I'll tell you what, Jupiterians. You leave me alone long enough to get this cover done, and I will seriously think about it.

Great! It's a deal!

They sound so cute when they giggle like that--at least they do as long as they aren't giggling because of some joke they played on me.

I wonder if they realize they are invisible to humans?

Week of the Turtle

2009-12-04T08:28:00.000-08:00

In the news, all I ever seem to hear about is the Swine Flu, otherwise known as the H1N1 virus. It can strike people in unexpected ways, sometimes with deadly results.

The Swine Flu is horrible, and we all need to do everything we can to stop its spread, but it isn't the only flu out there we need to be concerned about. This past week I was bogged down...by the Turtle Flu.

I know it was the Turtle Flu because I had all the classic symptoms. All food resembled worms to me. A pleasant hello from a family member was rewarded by a gruff snap.

But the most telling symptom was my speed. I mmmmooooovvvvveeeeeddddd vvvvveeeerrrrryyyyy ssssslllllooooowwwwwlllllyyyyy. (Yes, it was as irritating for me doing it as it is for you reading it.)

My family caught the brunt of my illness, but even the neighbors, who I didn't even catch sight of all week, suffered. My dog, who percieves her territory as consisting of everything within a 3-mile radius, spent the better part of the week barking at every noise--real and imagined. Instead of calming her like normal and using her barking as a training opportunity, the Turtle Flu dictated my response. I pulled my head deeper into my shell of covers and floated off into a sea of dreams.

Dreams punctuated by irritating, high-pitched, never-ending barks, but dreams nonetheless.

I am getting a bit more energy now, and I look forward to resuming my normal life. Food once again looks like food, I can talk instead of snap, and I am able to move from one side of the room to the other in under 20 minutes.

So as you are protecting yourself from the H1N1 virus, more commonly known as the Swine Flu, don't forget to also protect yourself from its irritating little cousin, the Turtle Flu. No one deserves to have a week of the turtle. No one.

NaNoWriMo - done

2009-11-23T11:48:00.001-08:00

I know November is not over yet, but I have reached the 50,000 word count, so I'm done with NaNoWriMo! I have never been so tired of writing in my life! I will most assuredly take a break for a week or so.

I almost didn't finish. Friday I pushed very hard and hit the 41,000 word count, only to be rewarded by a melt down. As I reread some of what I had written, I was horrified. My plot didn't flow, the characters were flat, and to up my word count I had started doing really silly things. The worst was having the main character of my story go to story time at a library, and then writing into my story what the character would hear.

When it hit me that I had trashed my first draft I almost cried. All I was doing was giving myself a lot more work to do in the rewrites. I decided that NaNoWriMo wasn't worth it. So I put away my computer, ran a nice warm bath, and decided to chalk it up to a lesson learned. I evidently was not capable of writing 50,000 words in one month.

But then, as I relaxed in the bath, a miracle occurred. I realized why the holes in my plot existed, why the characters were flat, and even better I realized what I needed to do to fix it.

I was revived and energized. I stayed up until 2 a.m. Saturday morning fixing my novel.

I am glad I did. I once again feel good about what I have written, so instead of being distrait, I look forward to finishing this novel.

But most important, I have silenced that little voice in the back of my head that tried to convince me that I was setting myself up for failure.

I would give an evil little laugh myself, just for the fun of it. But I'm too tired.

NaNoWriMo halfway point

2009-11-17T08:54:00.000-08:00

It is time for a little update on my progress with NaNoWriMo.

I have not finished writing for the day, but my current word count is 27,408. So take that, you sneaky little voice in the back of my head that said I couldn't do it! I did not get sick, and I am way, way past the 3,000 words you predicted.

Where is that evil little laugh now?

There it is! There is the laugh.

Why the evil laugh, when I just told you that you have failed? My writing is coming along just fine. I am right on target. Slightly ahead as a matter of fact.

Oh. I guess you are right, I am far from finished. But no, just because I took a few minutes to write on my blog does not mean I have given up.

Does not!

Sorry, got to go. I've got loads more writing to do. I am on a mission to prove that little voice wrong.

A little help from my friends

2009-11-13T11:26:00.000-08:00

The oddest thing happened to me this morning. I got my cup of coffee, started my computer, and sat down to write.

Only, when I reread what I wrote the day before, I was horrified. WHAT HAD I BEEN THINKING! It was horrible, the worst I have ever written.

I know that because of NaNoWrimo I am rushing through, but it was almost as if I hadn't even written it myself. It did not sound like me.

Is that whispering I hear? Jupiterians, is that you?

Hello Jupiterians! I haven't seen you for a while, I thought you might be gone for good. I'm happy to see you back.

What do you mean, maybe I won't be so happy?

Why are you so upset? What do you need to tell me?

Oh.

Well, I can't say I am happy that you deleted everything I had written and rewrote it for me. I appreciate the sentiment, but I would rather you let me do my own writing.

I don't care if you think what you wrote is better. I have a right to do my own work.

Yes, that is how I want it!

Well, fine to you too.

Don't cry, Jupiterians. I don't hate you. I can fix it.

Yes, I promise I can. I always save a copy outside of my computer every day I write. I can retrieve that one and start exactly where I left off yesterday.

Ah, the sound of giggles. Everything is back the way it should be.

A mind of its own

2009-11-03T19:19:00.001-08:00

I was told it could happen, but I didn't think it was true.

I was warned about it, but ignored the warning. In my ignorance, I believed it could never happen to me.

Yet it did.

My little baby book, the newborn creation that I began just yesterday, already has a will of its own. A strong one.

It took me two full years to write my last book, mainly because I wrote it in first person, and it was hard! So when I finally finished the last word, I vowed to stick to the much more intuitive third person. I never again wanted to struggle with those strange verb tenses that rear their ugly heads with first person writings.

Yet, as I reread what I wrote yesterday, I noticed that it just didn't flow. Something wasn't right. The voice, well, the voice was missing. Which, I suppose, is okay, since it is just a rough draft. Only...well...why not make even that first rough draft as good as it can be.

Especially since, as I thought about the story I planned, I realized that I didn't need to try to give the story a voice, it already had one. I could hear it loud and clear. It was talking directly to me.

So today I rewrote yesterday's writings--in first person. It slowed me down a bit, and I'll have to scramble a bit more to reach my 50,000 words in one month goal, but it was worth it.

Wish me luck!

1st day of NaNoWriMo

2009-11-02T12:17:00.000-08:00

I just finished my first day of writing.

word count: 2470 (not bad!)

I created an outline, so I know basically what will happen in each chapter, and exactly how the story will play out. I also began the first chapter.

I'm satisfied--for today.

P.S. I haven't seen hide nor hair of the Jupiterians for a while. I hope they keep their distance until the end of November!

NaNoWriMo officially begins

2009-11-02T07:49:00.000-08:00

It's almost 8 am, November 2, and I am now officially beginning NaNoWriMo.

Why the late start? Why did I not begin on November 1st?

Well, it just didn't seem right to start on a Sunday. Sunday is family time, and long ago, in a far away land, when I first began to be serious about writing, I promised that I would never neglect my family for my writing.

So my additional challenge is to get most of the 50,000 words done during the week days. I might cheat a few times and sneak in a little writing on the weekends. But only a little. To make up for Thanksgiving.

Yum! I love a good challenge, and a good turkey.

Let the writing begin!

NaNoWriMo

2009-10-29T14:05:00.000-07:00

November is almost here, and so is the National Novel Writing Month. Every year I say I'm going to participate, and every year I don't remember about it until halfway through the month.

But this year is different. This year I'm all signed up and ready to go.

Except...well, I have discovered one problem. I'm a chicken.

Every time I've mentioned to my family that I plan to write 50,000 words in one month, a little voice in the back of my head does one of those evil laughs. You know, something like 'bwa ha ha ha ha'.

It is so distracting. And scary. It is like having Vincent Price living in my head.

I hate to admit that I'm afraid of that little voice in the back of my head. Although I shouldn't be, it is a powerful little voice, and it has had a lot of practice telling me what I cannot do.

I suppose I should be thankful that the voice is now focused on NaNoWriMo--it seems to have forgotten about all the other parts of my life. Yesterday it said, "you'll never be able to write 50,000 words in one month, why even try?" The day before it told me, "anything you write that quickly will only be trash, so give it up now and don't waste your time." Today it is saying, "you'll be sorry if you try it, you'll get all cranky and you'll only write 3,000 words and you'll get sick."

Hmmmm. Now that I think about it, the voice seems to be getting desperate, like it believes it will fail. And if it fails, that means...

50,000 words, here I come!

Seattle Bookfest

2009-10-24T17:27:00.000-07:00

I'll be at the Seattle Bookfest tomorrow for several hours. Hope to see you there!

http://www.seattlebookfest.com/

Now for the sun

2009-10-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

Done!

Just half a minute ago, I finished rewriting the last word on the last page of the last chapter. Of the Department of Temporal Adjustment, of course! Possibly to be known as the DTA, possibly by some other title.

I am ecstatic, jubilant, and so, so happy.

The sun is shining brightly--at least in my head. As I look out the window all I can see are clouds.

Go away, naughty clouds, I don't want you around today. I am too happy to put up with your depressing grayness.

Let that glorious sun shine through.

I don't need it personally, I have loads of internal sunshine.

I would just like to share this feeling with the rest of the world.

A writer

2009-10-07T13:49:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, October 6th 2009, I learned something wonderful. I learned that my husband truly believes in me.

He's always been supportive, but being supportive isn't the same as truly believing. Especially since he has known me for more than 25 years, and he is well aware of each and every flaw I possess.

When I began to write, my husband supported me in my 'little hobby'. He helped me carve a little time out of the week, bought me a computer, and listened as I talked of plots, characters, and sentence structure.

After I completed the first book writing was no longer a hobby to me, but a passion. To my husband, it stayed my 'little hobby'.

But yesterday he said four wonderful words that let me know he has had a change of heart.

He was telling me about his class. At the start of the year he had written a letter of welcome to all his students, and on Tuesday he decided to check to see how carefully they had read it.

After asking various questions and receiving the appropriate answers, he asked his class, "What does my wife do?"

One bright student answered, "She's a writer!"

My husband paused in his story to tell me that he told the student that the answer was correct. Then he went on to say, "I never even told them you are also a librarian, you've made the transition."

Have you ever heard four more beautiful words? You've made the transition! My wonderful, smart, not-easily-impressed husband now thinks of me as a writer.

I am happy. He believes in me.

U-Haul Zone (part 1)

2009-10-03T18:28:00.000-07:00

Imagine yourself in your neighborhood, walking down a street you had walked down many times before. The trees are the same old trees, the stores are the same old stores, and the houses are the same old houses.

But today, you will not be making your usual stop at Starbucks to get your favorite Venti extra hot latte. No today, you will be going into a new store.

You have passed the store in question numerous times before, but have never felt the need to explore it. As a matter of fact, whenever you looked more than 10 seconds at the store you felt a strange queasiness in the pit of your stomach that only lessened when you allowed your eyes to slide away.

But today you will ignore your feelings of revulsion, and you will visit the store. Not because you have an innate need to visit every store in your neighborhood, but for the simple reason that you need to rent a U-Haul. You have done your Internet searches, you have contacted multiple companies, you have compared prices and reputations. This store, this strangely repulsive store, has the best deal on U-Hauls at the closest location.

You are a mere two businesses away from your destination when the sky opens and rain begins to pour out of the heavens. You begin to run, but stop short when you realize that the only way to get to the store is to cross a veritable moat of mud, water, and what looks suspiciously like motor oil.

You take a step forward and cringe with disgust as your sandal-clad foot lands ankle deep in the slimy mess. But you are on a mission, so with a shrug you continue on. With a little luck, you might be able to get inside before every inch of you is soaking wet.

As you get closer you notice that the entrance is blocked by a man. He is covered in dirt from head to toe, and as he smiles at you, you notice that he is not only missing two front teeth, but he also has an open sore on his cheek the size of a quarter.

----end of part 1----

Vlapped!

2009-09-28T11:44:00.000-07:00

I've been vlapped! No once, but twice.

It happened this weekend. We had a family birthday party, and one of the guests, a 3 month old baby, was giving his parents a hard time. I could tell the parents were upset and tense (they are new parents and haven't had him out after his bedtime before), so I offered to walk him a bit to calm him. I wanted to give the new parents an opportunity to enjoy the party and regain their cool.

I knew I could help, since I'd had plenty of practice with my own 4 children, nieces, nephews, neighbors, etc. I'm a pro at keeping the tension out of my body, which is key for calming irrate babies. A baby always knows if the person holding him is stressed.

Vlap! The father of the child told me that I would not be capable of helping. (Even though I've successfully managed to soothe multiple babies, multiple times.)

Okay, I thought. I'll just back off. I'm sure this man who has been a father for all of three months knows loads more than I do about handling babies. I only have a mere 23 + years of experience.

The party continued, and the parents were unable to participate. After about an hour the baby was calm, but not asleep. I asked the mother if she wanted me to hold the little tike so she could socialize for a bit.

Vlap! The mother of the child told me I would not be capable of helping.

So there you have it, two vlaps in one party.

What? You have never heard the term 'vlap' before? It is a term I picked up from the Jupitarians--it means virtual slap. It is used all the time on Jupiter.

I like the term.

And in case you are wondering, a vlap hurts like the dickens--just like a slap.

Ouch!

Half-way done!

2009-09-18T10:55:00.001-07:00

Success! (Or at least, half success!)

This morning I reached the halfway mark. I am now officially halfway finished with the last rewrites I need to do of the DTA. I was beginning to feel I'd never get here.

So much for finishing them all before the end of summer.

I don't understand what has slowed me down so much, but every time I start work the phone rings, or the dog barks, or my computer won't work, or something else happens to keep me from progressing like I should.

Giggles? Do I hear giggles? Jupiterians, are you here?

What do you mean, you hope I liked your jokes? What jokes?

You were the ones who called me on the phone and hung up as soon as I answered? You made the dog bark? You made my computer suddenly shut down? Why?

I see. They were great jokes. I can tell you really have enjoyed the pranks you've pulled.

What is that? They weren't just pranks, they were for my own good? How so?

Well I appreciate your concern, but I really don't see how getting the manuscript finished sooner rather than later will hurt anything.

You want to make sure I don't publish until next year? Well there is no fear of that now. But why will 2010 be a better year than 2009?

You say it is because of 20 divided by 10. And what exactly does 20 divided by 10 mean to you?

Yes, well, it is 2 for me too.

Laugh away, Jupiterians. Laugh away.

It must be a cultural thing.

Pepper-before and after

2009-09-16T08:40:00.000-07:00

Don't tell Pepper, but I managed to get a picture of her. She is so camera shy. You would think I was a member of the paparazzi, and she was an over-worked movie star.

But before I show her new do, let me remind you of her old one. Note the dry grass. With her old fur cut, Pepper and dry grass were like the two connecting pieces of velcro. And just as hard to separate!

Since Pepper's visit to the salon I haven't had to de-velcro her a single time.

Here is what she looks like now (otherwise known as AFTER):

Much better, don't you think!

A dog, a plan, and some clippers

2009-09-08T15:01:00.000-07:00

The price for Behold the Eye trilogy has been lowered! Thanks for the new lowered price belongs to...

Pepper, the Wonder Dog!
Why do I call her a Wonder Dog? Well, she was getting so shaggy she looked like a little brown bear, and I had begun to wonder if she was really a dog.

You see, I've wanted to get Pepper's fur styled for a while, but she didn't want it, and she is from a stubborn breed. She let me know in no uncertain terms that she liked her fur long, curly, and matted.

I can't say I blame her. I also remember the fiasco that occurred the last time I took her for a fur cut. She left the pet salon scalped and humiliated. She looked like a naked mole-rat instead of a Schnoodle. She was embarrassed, and I was embarrassed for her.

So I had to be sneaky, which was okay since I had a plan. First I watched a few dog breed competitions on TV with Pepper, and I commented on how silly the shaggy dogs looked, and how great the groomed dogs appeared. I kept up my commentary throughout each entire show.

I noticed Pepper looking in my direction several times, which encouraged me to hope that my words were having the desired effect. (Although I must admit that due to the overgrowth of hair I was unable to read Pepper's expression, and she might just have been irritated that I was talking during her shows.)

When I felt we had watched enough pampered pet shows I put the rest of my plan into action. I laughed loudly at one well groomed dog told Pepper that understood why she wouldn't go in for a fur trim, that I bet she would hate to have such a stylish haircut.

Pepper just looked at me for a moment and looked away.

I asked what was wrong, and as she looked at me through her shaggy dredlocks I could tell she was ready for a change. So I told her that if she would gather up enough courage to trust someone near her with shears, I would gather the courage to go to bat with my publishers to get the price of my books lowered.

All is well that ends well.

Pepper is still camera shy, but if I get the chance I'll post her new stylish do!

An answer to a prayer

2009-08-31T10:13:00.000-07:00

Today is my first day unemployed.

I once wrote a short story with the moral "be careful what you ask for because you might get it." Maybe, just maybe, I should have listened to my own advice.

I've felt for a while that it was time for a change, but I was afraid. I didn't know what kind of change I needed, what I should do to improve things. So I prayed for guidance, for a clear message that would let me know what my next step in life should be.

The next thing I knew, I was told that my position as Head Librarian in the school was being cut, and I was out of a job.

Gulp!

Message heard loud and clear: I had outlived my time at the BC school.

But what next? What kind of job should I look for? Where was I best suited.

Gulp again! I've applied for over 50 jobs this summer, with nary a bite. Another message heard loud and clear. I need to start my own business.

The time has come to stand on my own two feet. To be my own boss. To join the world of business owners.

Time for the next adventure.