Always a Wrench in the Works—Hrumph!

Literally...Ghost Hunk set out for GA yesterday with a buddy, and they got no farther than VA. The car started overheating. At first they thought it was the luggage rack they had added to the top of this fabulous VW bug (not suited well for towing or car carriers). I'm glad our dear friend Marc is with him on this journey. He called this morning to say it could be the thermostat or the head gasket! Big difference! Why does there always have to be a wrench in the works? There is no cash for this situation. Once again, we'll have to rely on a friend and it's wearing us both down.

This kids are dealing with things all right. Ghost Son is awesome...constantly reminding me that he loves me and that he appreciates how hard I am working. (Give that kid some extra squeezes!) He really had a hard time letting go of Daddy yesterday, but he pulled through. Ghost Daughter exhibits her trepidation differently. She said goodbye as if Ghost Daddy was heading off to the market. But when it came to leaving the house so the realtor could show it or getting her bath later, the little gremlin of grief reared its ornery head. But I was able to help her pull those emotions out and really look at them so she could deal with them a little more effectively.

And this morning, I had two cuddly kids crawl into bed for a good long ghost cuddle. We'll get through this. Another showing scheduled for Thursday...maybe we'll get to GA a little sooner.

Here We Go...!

My heart is in my stomach as I watch Ghost Hunk pack up his clothes and as much of his teaching material as he can fit in his VW Bug (which ain't much, folks!). Ghost Son is really struggling with the whole separation thing. But Daddy has given the man some good jobs to distract him—like helping Mama around the house and keeping things ready for those showings.

Speaking of showings, our house officially went on the market Tuesday afternoon, and we have our first showing tomorrow afternoon. (Whoa, stomach!) I've stripped down the basement so it doesn't look so much like a toy war zone. I still have to touch up paint and scrub down the half bath and clean up the laundry area... My head hurts just thinking about it.

In the meantime, I've status queried my favorite agent possibility. Another reason to hold my breath. I think if I survive the next few months, I can handle almost anything. This kids are going to have a tough time, but I have to say, I am awfully proud of Ghost Daughter. At the dinner table the other night, we were talking about the move and trying to find all the positive stuff. GD wanted to go back to the Waldorf school, but she'll have to start the year at the public school. Bummed at first, she brightly smiled and said, "I'll meet new girls to be my friend in first grade!" And then she thought for a minute and added, "And in Georgia, I'll have a whole bunch of new friends to meet!"

Gotta love that!

OMG—No Do-Overs? The Woman's Mid-life Crisis

So here we are, in our 40's, getting ready to start over again. How did that happen? We all know the stereotype: Man in mid-life crisis ditches his wife for a 20-something blonde bimbo and trades in his family sedan for a completely impractical, fire-engine red, sporty convertible with a mega-engine that announces his manhood 15 blocks before he arrives. (BTW, Ghost Hunk is no stereotype). But how does it work for a woman? I mean do we really think we are that superior that we don't suffer some kind of break down?

I think I have that one covered. It's not that flimsy sense of lost youth that men love to blame for their asinine behavior. No, it's more than a vague sense of our own mortality. It's that brain-numbing, heart-freezing realization that there are no do-overs. That we can't go back ten years and fix things. Those mistakes we hoped would just wash out with the years suddenly start bashing the back of our brains to a pulp and remind us that we can't do it over. We did that bone-head thing, made those wrong choices, and there is no going back. That's what snatches my breath away the instant I think about it. That's what makes my heart suddenly seem so fragile, like I could drop dead any minute and I didn't do it right. Mortality ain't so vague, afterall.

As a mom, my first thought is, "How do I fix it?!" I count all those times I lost my patience with my kids or failed to hear them or gave the wrong advice and wish I could erase it. It's overpowering, this sense of disappointment, of failure. I can see why prozac is such a hot seller in the over-40 group!

But I have to believe that do-overs are irrelevant, because in the end, it's the sum of our experiences, good and bad, that make us who we are. If I did everything right, my kids would be absolutely irretrievable messes! They would never have learned how to handle pain, how to accept imperfection--in others and in themselves. It would be like the Lotus Eaters--so blissfully ignorant that happiness would have no value.

So while my stomach flips 360 degrees and twists itself into a pile of knots whenever I think, "OMG—No Do-overs?!" I have to remember that I'm learning how to be human every day of my life (all the way to the end of it). And I'm teaching my kids how to be human, too.

Perhaps it's not a crisis...but a breakthrough.

LOUS's and the Long Journey Home...Wherever That May Be

Here's the word for now: Columbus, IN is officially out of the offing, Arkansas is officially in, and the other two are still an annoying question mark that could mess a lot of things up for a lot of people. Yikes! In the meantime, we are frantically attacking the mess that is our beloved home, tidying, packing, sending things off to storage. Next week we will contact a real estate agent. Whoa there, stomach!

But I must document our journey out West a little. I've mentioned the LOUS's, Landmarks Of Unusual Size, though I suppose the first one is not technically a Landmark since it's mobile. Imagine my surprise as I'm driving down the Pennsylvania Turnpike, winding through our mountainous terrain, enjoying the ripples of summer foliage, when out of nowhere appears a giant head. Not just any head. EDDIE MURPHY'S HEAD!! Holy Freakin' Cow! No white line fever on this trip. If that doesn't wake you up...
There's something just a little disturbing about that frozen, gap-toothed smile—mustache and all—wending its way through the Pennsylvania landscape in front of us. It was a promo for his latest movie (cough), and the van hauling this tricked-out trailer (Ha! Pun intended...totally!!) was covered in info and images from the movie. It's unforgettable, I'll give them that! Sadly, it doesn't make me want to see the movie any more than the video trailers did.

We dropped the kids in Indiana and then Ghost Hunk and I lit out for the West. Of course, on our way to the Natural State we had to go through St. Louis, MO. Truly a LOUS. I've been to MO before, but never through St. Louis, so it was fun to see this classic landmark up close and personal...okay, from I-70 anyway. And St. Louis definitely looks like a "happenin'" town. Our journey continued on through the Show Me State on to Branson and Springfield where we encountered another LOUS, although my memory is a bit blurred, and this could have cropped up somewhere in Illinois on the way back East. They don't mess around! There were other LOUS's, like the 3-story high farmer in a red-checked shirt, spinning his arms and touting the best pies in three states, or the 15-foot tall family of hamburger-toting campers, circa 1950, perched atop an old mobile home. Quite an interesting trip.

The day after we returned to Indiana and the Ghost Kids, we got the official offer from Arkansas and word that GA would not let us know until July 21st or 22nd. And wouldn't you know, AR wants an answer by July 18th! One job in hand...can't squander that on the indefinite hopes of another. AR is a beautiful place to live. But this job means the end to Ghost Hunk's career as a scholar, which breaks my heart. Now he becomes a Social Worker for Academia. The pay is not good, the retirement plan stinks, and there's no room for advancement and no time to continue scholarly pursuits. But it is a job and the people are wonderful there. It's also in a beautiful part of the country. We'll see if any other questions get answered...

Can a Girl get a Decaf Soy Java Chip Frappaccino in Indiana?

So far, the answer to that one is "no." Yes, it's sad to say that even a Starbucks can't offer that in Columbus, Indiana--holy quacking cow! It's been one of those days, when all the emotion of 9 months comes crashing around my hypoglycemic brain and pushes me to the verge of tears over the dumbest things. It wasn't just the coffee, but it does give me pause about the degree of civilization that we might be diving into.

Of course I know that this little city is civilized, but it has really surprised this farm-grown country girl how citified I've become. Most of me aches for those 5 acres and a barn and my horses again. It always aches for that. But another twisted part of my brain asks, "but what about the bookstore where I can sit for hours with my cup of tea?" "What about being able to pop down the road a tiny piece for a gallon of milk?"

So is this our future home? Or is it Arkansas. Or even Georgia? I have to say that Arkansas seems to offer the best of both worlds, the country and the civilization, and at a decent price. But the job is not the most enticing. We have yet to receive any other offers, so it may be a moot point. But what if Columbus offers a little more money and a slightly better position? or Georgia? Is the living going to be as sweet? What exactly am I hoping for at this point? Yikes!

More questions from the road that need a little more time to play out. Keep those prayers coming--please...

More Notes from the Road...

UPDATE: Early this evening we got our first offer, from Arkansas. We have to turn the other irons in the fire before we make a decision, but at least we have one option right now. Let's see if we have any others.

Well, we have returned to Indiana, a little road weary and a lot confused. Arkansas is beautiful, and the Bentonville area is a wonderful place to live. Unfortunately, the job doesn't pay as much as we would like and it is not exactly what Ghost Hunk was hoping to do.

However, he is interviewing with the school in Indiana on Tuesday (so I guess we're going to extend our little vacation a bit.) Again, it's not ideal, but it's something. Still waiting to hear from Georgia. And still more confused about what to do "if"...

I'm afraid I dropped the ball a little on my WFMAD pledge over the last 2 days, so I'll have to work 45 minutes today. And wouldn't it just figure that I left my laptop at home! I didn't think I'd be ready for the actual drafting before we got back to PA, but I'm itching for it, now. But when it comes to the actual writing of the first draft, I'm a computer slave. Just can't function the same way with a pencil and paper. My fingers can't keep up with my brain unless I have a keyboard under them. Anyone else have that trouble?

Stay tuned for the LOUS's...that will put a smile on your face.

Notes from the Road...

The kids (and the dogs) are safely ensconced with Grandma & Grandpa in Indiana, and we arrived in Arkansas just after dinner time. It's been quite a trip so far--beautiful scenery and LOUS's (I'll explain this in another post). But can you believe, as we are driving somewhere through Illinois (or maybe Missouri), we check the messages on the home answering machine.

Ghost Hunk got another call for an interview at a college in Indiana. Yes, you read that right. INDIANA

I'm heartbroken to be leaving the East, but I wasn't really hoping to end up in Indiana. Yes, our family is there. (In my case, 'nuff said) :-) And Ghost Hunk would love to be closer to his parents, so would I. But I had started to get used to the idea of the Big Move. Okay, nothing is decided yet, and there is a lot left to be discovered about each of the jobs. Tomorrow GH has his interview here in Arkansas. The interview in Indiana will probably be on Thursday. And still no word from GA, other than no final decision has been made...but any day now.

WFMAD Update:

I have managed to keep up with my writing on the road. And...I have a plot!!!! Finally, I've figured out where to go with this one. Ghost Hunk is great for that, too. He helps me bounce ideas around and come up with a direction. Yep...Love that hunk!

More later...

On the Road...

Yes, we are striking out to find our fortune. Okay, maybe not quite that dramatic, but with the crazy poverty-driven elements of our latest job search, we have decided to drive out to AR and maybe GA (fingers crossed). We'll be stopping off in Indiana to leave the kiddos with Ghost Grandma & Grandpa while Ghost Hunk and I head out to Arkansas for his interview. Some of you may have heard that they called him out, but at the last minute said they couldn't pay for his flight. Neither can we!

The town is supposed to be one of the best places to live in the US, though the job isn't all that GH was looking for. But it could be a good job. So why should a college's lack of funds and our poverty line keep him from potentially getting real work in this economy? So we're hitting the road. We may also get a call from GA, and with any luck, it will be a good call.

It all works out because I get to see the place and evaluate housing potential, schools, etc. AND the kids get to see their grandparents, who haven't seen them in almost a year and a half.

Will Ghost Girl be writing on this trip? You bet cha! I'm living up to Laurie Halse Anderson's WFMAD challenge. So far, I've started mapping out the main characters and some of the plot. Yikes! The Plot! That's another post. Are you WFMAD-ing?

Wish us luck in the Midwest and South East! (And pray really hard...)

The Creative Correlative

As my sanity wanders dangerously close to the abyss, my creative urges start gurgling and swishing in all directions (and unfortunately nowhere in the vicinity of my next novel). My bones ache to create something, and in this case, something useful and fun. My neighbor, a dear young friend, is having a baby shower this weekend. It will be her first little bundle of ecstasy, so I really wanted to do something special. But let's start with the end of the process...the card.

Today, we have a brief oasis before the scorching 90's return tomorrow, so I spent most of the afternoon outside—eating, reading, drawing, PAINTING. Yes, it's been years, and I mean years, since I got the watercolors out for my own enjoyment. So today I decided to paint a card to go along with the gift I made for little baby Neighbor. And Ghost Daughter has been inside far too much, so I roped her into bringing her new paints out on the patio, too. And voila! Her work of art. She painted it for her brother, his "welcome home from Boy Scout Camp" gift. (ouch...missing him again...)

While she splattered sky all around and grew a watercolor flower and a happy camper, I sprouted a jungle. Now remember, it's been years since I did anything like this, so I'm a little wobbly with the brush...and the pencil. But, I wanted to carry over some of the fun of the gift I made for baby neighbor. Yes, the theme is a baby jungle. No particular reason. I just know that my friend is doing the nursery in yellow and green and they don't want to know the baby's sex until he/she is born. So off to the fabric store for something baby, but unisex. A Jungle! Why not? I found these cute fabrics and they just seemed to fit. And with the final approval of Ghost Children, the theme for a brand new baby quilt was born (sorry about that pathetic pun!)

So, since my writing impulse has been stunted by all this waiting and worry, my creative flow had to find another pipeline, and that would be the quilt. Little baby monkeys, elephants, giraffes, lions, and hippos all peeking through the jungle foliage. How fun! So, in a week or so, I had made a pin-wheel quilt, complete with hand-sewn binding. (Let's hope it doesn't unravel and become a baby hazard...hand-stitching is definitely not my talent!) I love putting these together, though. I've done quilts for both my kids, and they still use them. So far, they haven't come apart...after 8 years, too!  Cards are always hard for me. I tend to like the funny ones (Farside and other twisted humor) or the clever ones. But this time, I really wanted something that drew the color and brightness from the quilt, so I made my own. And, as part of the gift, I'm also including the board book Goodnight, Gorilla. I don't know what the jungle swallowed me up on this one, but I hope it's not too much for my neighbor. There is still a lot of baby here and whether it's a boy or girl, every little schpunt loves jungle babies...right?

Yes, there is a high correlation between creativity and sanity. At least between my creativity and my sanity! When I get stuck in the worry bog, I simply have to find a way to make something new so I spend less time racing through that doomsday scenario over and over again. Ah...creativity therapy.

HOMESICKNESS

We've got it bad in our house. In so many ways. First, Ghost Son is away at camp for the week, the first time he's been on his own for more than a night. We shipped him off Sunday morning with a footlocker full of necessities, including a can full of Slim Jims and a cell phone. He called twice the first day, full of excitement and eager to start working on those merit badges. He sounded so happy and ready for his week away. Sure, we could hear a little homesickness in his voice, and he owned up to it, but said he knew he could handle it.

Last night...no phone call. (Poor Ghost Girl) We figured he was having too much fun and that's just fine.

Today, he called after lunch. There it was. That crack in his voice. That shadow of disillusionment behind the words he chose to describe his experience. Our boy isn't shy about admitting his feelings, and he fessed up to his homesickness right away, but he was handling it, and he wasn't going to cry or carry on. The reason he didn't call last night: Thunder storms moved through the area and knocked out the power. He didn't realize that he could still use his cell phone!

The news for today: he lost his wallet already and was put in a swim class with younger kids, which makes him feel like a loser. But he's still trying to be positive. And at least he is sharing a tent with one of his best buddies.

But here's the killing kind of homesickness: last night, he told his buddy that we might be moving. It was a tough moment, and they handled it like men. They made a pact to visit and stay in touch, no matter what happens. This kicked me hard in the guts. I hate that our little guy has to worry. Worry about where home will be. I hate that he's had to know about it this so long. To be dragged through the anxiety that we have been swimming in for the last 8 months. No 11-year-old should have to feel that. But we had to tell him what was going on back then because so many changes were already set in motion.

This will all pass soon. We know it. But there is going to be a lot of adjustment no matter what the final outcome is. Any day now, we should have an answer. Any day...

There are a lot of positives on the horizon, but even positives mean change and adjustment. I'm ready to find our home, wherever that may be--Georgia, Philly, Arkansas... Just tell us where home is. Soon...

OOOO! The Ax Has Been Stayed Just a bit Longer!

Yes, it's true. I got an email yesterday--and it wasn't a rejection! It was a congratulations-on-making-it-to-the-final-round-and-could-you-please-do-some-revisions email! This little gem concerns my very first novel, which inspired the name of this blog (the title of the book will be revealed later). The editor's comments were dead-on, and I really hope she'll give me a chance to work on it with her. I've done the revisions already and just have to clean up that nasty synopsis (bane of my existence!).

As for book #2--still waiting. In the meantime, I've sent it in for the Rutgers One-on-One Plus scholarship. Hey, gotta keep getting it out there, right? Something is going to break soon. It's got to!

4:45 pm--Update! I just sent the revisions and synopsis off to BTP. Back to holding my breath. Man! I'm getting dizzy...

A Breakthrough: Character

How many writers begin with an event, the primary plot of the story? How many start with the setting? I have to say that I've done both. In my first YA, there was vague idea of plot floating around, but it really started with a place. My second YA was sparked with a curious historical event that took me to amazing places. As I begin my third novel, I am starting from a whole new place--Character. Yes, character was important in my first two books, but perhaps I should have spent a little more time with them before kicking them out the door. As I await the ax on those two, it's certainly something to consider for revisions.

And now, for YA #3. I begin with character, and with a twist: this is my first stab at a first person narrator, but the story is not about her. It's about someone she's watching, inescapably drawn to her, flitting in and out of her world (literally). A little like Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby. Since her voice is telling the story, I really need to get under her skin and walk around in it for a while. Oh, and one more kicker--she is a real person, not just a fictional character. No pressure there, huh?! Her role in history was rather limited, so that will give me a little room, but the character she is watching has a significant historical presence. OOOO {squeal!} this should be fun!

Now...I hope my family are bracing themselves for a wacko mom, running around the house, muttering to herself. (well, I guess that's nothing new!). This time, I really want to flesh out these characters before I even start writing. So back to my English teacher roots...free-writing, lists, sketches. Anything to "get" these gals in my brain...

And in my heart.

A Handful of Hope

Yesterday was a busy day, full of those wonderful little bits of hope and joy that keep you going. First, I attended the SCBWI Editors panel in Bethlehem, where I met some fabulous writers and editors and caught up with friends I haven't seen in a while. Sally Keehn is just a lovely woman who truly loves good storytelling. She was a delight and a great source of inspiration. And Debbie Dady was another fabulous writer who has recently moved into our area from Colorada--we are so lucky! Paul Acampora organized the editor's day and was a terrific host. I love his stories about the Rutgers One-on-One conference! We heard several first pages and the editors gave their responses, most of them very good. There was some quality work offered for their review and the editors offered some solid feedback. I also got a lot of encouragement in my own paper chase for the elusive book contract from these wonderful writers who shared their experiences.

When I got home, an exotic treat awaited me in my lonely old mailbox. Finally treated to something other than bills, my trusty post box yielded a gift my most loyal editing client. We just finished his dissertation, which was submitted for publication in May, and he sent me a treasure from Japan as a "thank you." A beautiful pen that writes in both black and red (perfect for the editor/revising writer!). He is from Japan and we have often corresponded via email across oceans of distance (literally). It's been a joy to work with him, and this little treasure will be a dear reminder.

And the biggest news...da dada DA!!!! Presenting the world premiere of the latest short by C. M. Scott...BIONICLE STORY II! Yep, last night Connor unveiled his latest stop-motion film at the EPES Talent Show. And how awesome is it when not just kids, but parents ask you for your autograph?! The Scott family was puffed up with pride, and shortly after the show, Rita's Italian ice! Keep an eye on Youtube in the next few days. This blockbuster will be making its way to cyberspace soon. What a night...

Now, back to hoping for that book contract, for that perfect job, for a little financial breathing room...

Could it be a Peach?

We need lots of good vibes and prayers. DH got the call and he has an on-campus interview at a small college in Georgia! At this point it is hard to know what to wish for. I don't know what the pay will be, and it's a huge move. But...DH would still be a professor, which really is his true calling. We told DS that this might be a possibility. He got teary and expressed himself so clearly. He would really rather not move, but he wants his daddy to have the kind of job he likes. And that's actually a big deal to DS. He has seen us work and embrace our jobs (even my Waldorf insanity) and he has come to value that sense of truly enjoying your work. He knows that there are financial considerations, but our little guy is a remarkable, thoughtful soul who has always been "spiritually" in tune. He gets the idea that money isn't everything.

So, our task now is to learn as much about the area as possible. I've checked out the school system in the town itself-- I'll wait to comment on that one. Housing prices are decent. DH is learning as much about the college as he can and figuring out what he will talk about in his "scholarly presentation." In the meantime, he is still chasing down non-academic job possibilities.

We love it in PA, but Georgia could be grand as well. It would certainly be better for my RA-ravaged bod. But I want my DH to be happy. If he's not happy, none of us will be. I can write from anywhere. So there it is. Please pray that the right answer will come...whatever that may be. (And pray that it hurries!)

In a word: STRESS

I hate that word, especially when it comes to my kids. My son is 11 years old today (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BUDDY!) It just kills me that he came home from school yesterday, his face drawn tight with tension, and his big brown eyes sitting in a shallow pool of unshed tears. "I'm just so stressed, Mama."

It seems both his personality and the merciless tack of the NCLB crap are taking their toll on my not-so-little guy's self-esteem. He explained that a lot of work has just "gotten away from him" and he is so afraid of ending the year with a bad report card. Like is father, DS can be a bit scatter-brained and disorganized. That's how assignments slip through the cracks. He is also in the gifted program, which is a pull-out program, and that means he has to initiate requests for work that he may have missed. Okay, we can work on that. But the pressure that is generated by the whole "gotta pass the test, gotta excel on that damn PSSA..." above all else (including learning). That is crap! Plain and simple.

I know that he as arrived at that age when things like grades and success matter in more tangible ways. I know that I cannot protect him from stress and pressure and all that comes with growing up, especially the oncoming train wreck known as adolescence. We had a great talk about things and came up with a plan for handling the end of the school year, but I deeply resent the extra pressure that NCLB has created for the kids. Even more, I loath the attitude that so many administrators are taking--"Gotta save my ass so these kids had better perform!" I won't even go into the hell my kindergardener went through last year--when a 5 year old stresses out about an 89% on a math test?!!!! What 5-year-old should even know what a math test is, let alone and 89%?! I mean, come on...at 5 years old, she can barely count to 20!

Sorry about the rant...just had to blow off a little steam. It's just that DS is such a laid-back guy, so when I see the stress actually get to him, it tears my heart out. He has a lot to deal with right now--potentially moving to a new state, changing schools, moving away from friends...And no clear plan yet. Oh yeah, and we just had the sex talk, too! Poor kid...

Query Weary...

By now, I think I've finally figured out what the query is about. That doesn't mean I write them any better, but I think I'm getting closer to the underlying element that has been so elusive. Be ME. Yep. It's that simple. The last two that I wrote were genuinely Ghost Girl queries, full of my real voice and experience. Now whether that will attract an agent and/or publisher has yet to be determined. But I feel better about my query, as if I truly own it.

So how did I finally get here?

First, I did my research. As you've already guessed, I surf the blogosphere not only regularly, but passionately. And I have two excellent launching pads: QueryTracker and AgentQuery. Here, you sort through the agents that "do your thing," whether that be historical fiction, chick lit, urban fantasy...whatever. Then you can get profiles on each agent and find out if they are open to queries, email or otherwise. Read their links and blogs. You might be surprised to find that agents are actual people--with real life experiences, predilections, and opinions of their own. (Don't forget to check The Blue Boards for updates on response times and other info).

Next, I found myself and put it on the page. The more you learn about an agent, the more you see that there is a good fit and a not so good fit. Which one will mesh with your personality, not just handle books like yours? When you figure that out, it's easier to let yourself spill across the page and relate to your agent professionally but also personally. I've spent so much time worrying about making the right impression that I forgot that I have to represent myself as well as my work, especially to an agent, the person who will be your advocate, your support, your biggest cheerleader out there in the market. He/she should know you. Afterall, you are embarking upon a partnership, and with any luck, one that will last a long time.

So, I have just sent out a query to probably the best match I've found so far. I hope she thinks so too. And so the wait begins yet again. Here's hoping...

Blue Boarders Rule!

Hurray! For all of you fabulous Children's writers and illustrators out there, support Verla Kay's website and discussion board--haven for all of us who bash our heads on our keyboards every day, trying to write or illustrate something wonderful for kids--go to Cafe Press and order your magnet or button today!

Verla has built one of the friendliest, most informative forums for kid-litters, full of supportive colleagues, stimulating discussion, and spot-on industry info that has helped me in more ways than I can name. It's more than a discussion board; it's a community. She also has some great articles and tips for writers and artists, links and info for teachers and for kids, too. And she's done this all on her own dime. So give a little back and show off your blue!

A Taste for Tea

Anyone who knows even a little bit about me knows that I am a huge tea drinker. Winter, spring, summer...doesn't matter. I pretty much always have a hot cuppa nearby, especially if I'm writing. As some of you may also know, I often have a certain buddy nearby as well. But who would have guessed that my fuzzy little muse liked English Breakfast Tea as well? (Decaf, of course) As you can see, she more than likes it. Poor little thing, though. She didn't expect the mug warmer action. When she hopped off my cup and put her tiny foot on that black pad...Ouch! It doesn't stop her from hopping back in my tea, though. Stinker! Perhaps I should take one of Maisie's dainty tea cups and pour a wee bit for Ruthie. A tea party!

My DH's Latest Contribution to Cultural Studies

Yes, it is on its way. Set to be released in September, The Porning of America, my husband's razor-sharp assessment of the state of America in a Porn-inflicted society, will soon be on the shelves. And what other timely example could punctuate his and co-author Carmine Sarracino's keen observations than the whole Miley Cyrus/Vanity Fair issue? (I'll leave you to google that one.)

Yes, the topic came up in Kevin's literature classes, and he unflinchingly embraced the conversation which yielded even more interesting perspectives from a young audience. Dare we tread on the wholesome image of a Disney diva? We don't have to. Yet another youngster treads that tightrope between innocent pop icon and wannabe more than a teen queen. How do child stars navigate the tricky, often salacious minefield of childhood stardom, especially a 15-year-old girl, if they want to find work after they turn 18? I'll leave that discussion to my husband. If you click on today's blog title, you will see his blog on the Beacon Press site, outlining some general reactions to the Miley Cyrus debacle.

While it is not a diatribe or a didactic treatise on the evils of pornography, their book paints a crisp picture of the pervasive influence of porn in our society...right down to how it stalks not only us, but in its most subtle (or not so subtle) forms, our children. Is there a difference between erotica and porn? Absolutely. But where is the line and is it always clear?

This may seem like a strange and antithetical relationship--the guy who writes about porn and the chick who writes books for kids. I write books for children. Not sexy books. Not "edgy" books. Compelling books. (at least I hope I do). But the argument Kevin makes is not completely divorced from my world of YA fiction. Or from our roles as the parents of two young children. Just think about how porn connects with mainstream childhood the next time you pick up that Bratz doll or the latest Mary Kate and Ashley fashions at Walmart...

My Preview Audience...

I know I've blogged about Ruthie in the past, my erstwhile sidekick who shares my writing desk...and my bookshelf! She's pretty selective about her reading, and very interested in education research...

Sadly, I have neglected two very important members of my literary audience who see me through my mad re-enactments of the most dramatic (okay...sometimes inane) scenes in my WIP. So meet Whitman (yes, he's named after the poet). He has a bad habit of chewing up my daughter's plastic toys--the basement is a sea of FP Little People amputees--so he is not allowed to come all the way down into the basement.

Despite his banishment from the lower depths of my "office"/playroom, he sits sweetly on the step at just about eye level while I work. On occasion he snores or sighs, but he's good company when the house is really quiet. He's fairly opinionated, too. That's how I developed my thick skin against rejections.


My other buddy, Daisy. A true pound puppy, we adopted her from the human society in Indianapolis more than 7 years ago. She's the sensitive one. I can always count on her to laugh or cry at the right time in my manuscript. I don't know what I would without these little guys. Tea party guests, Halloween costume pals, roll on the floor and love 'em up buddies, they are such a part of the family and my literary critics circle. Just a small tribute to these three incredible companions. If you don't have a furry critique partner, I highly recommend it!