The Countdown has Begun...

School starts Tuesday for my kids. I love them with all my heart, but I honestly need to stop here and say

"Yippee!"

This has been a short and yet very long and draining summer vacation. The heat has been nearly unbearable and the kids- I know they try, but it's like two small cyclones tearing through my house, bumping into each other (and me) and bickering and stirring up a ruckus that has me fit to be tied sometimes. And they're not the small cyclones they used to be. No, they are growing and with that growth, they're more irritable and grouchy and grumble and fuss just a little louder, because what's the point of a fight with your big brother or little sister if Mom doesn't HEAR it the first time? LOL

They "need" more education...Yes, that's it. It's an absolute must~ because I NEED the quiet time to return to my normally abnormal days.

Autumn isn't here yet, but I feel it~sense it~ this settling current that's rippling just beneath the staggering heat that's crisped the grass, the riotous buzz of the cicadas, the crunchy dead leaves that have fallen at the feet of the trees. The trees aren't ready to strip down for their chilled dance through fall into winter, but this weather just hasn't given them much choice. It's so hot they have begun to bare their limbs, and they're growing more naked as the days and weeks move along.

This summer, even with the suffocating heat, has found me suffering the aches and pains of a sinus infection. I knew that's what it was a month or so ago, but I'm stubborn and refused to go to the doctor just because I was thinking of our finances and what's necessary. My mom reminded me that if it were one of the kids or my husband, I'd insist they go, but I don't do them any good if I'M sick either and I need to make myself a priority in getting well. So, I'm on Amoxicillin and starting to feel better just a couple of days in.

It's put me in a haze, having a sinus infection. I did get my first round of edits into my editor and now I'm working on another project that I'm not going to talk about today, but hoping that it's something I WILL be able to talk about before too long, if all goes well and maybe then I can talk about it till I'm blue in the face.

We'll see.

We've had 7th grade orientation for the oldest and tonight we must endure the Open House for the 3rd grader. Oh, what fun! Will be glad when this is over because I know I don't have to cook tonight, but will get to enjoy some awesome catfish from a little out of the way place here that Guy Fieri should visit on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.

Enjoy your Friday people, keep cool and let the countdown begin...Momma can't wait!

Love is a Very Tangled Thing

Okay, so I finally watched Tangled for the first time. According to my 8-year-old, it's one of THE best cartoon movies she's ever seen.

I liked it. It had a new twist on an old tale (though I don't recall Rapunzel being a Princess, but the daughter of poor folk who lived next door to a witch, later found in the tower by the Prince. Perhaps that was part of the charm- that they reversed the roles for Rapunzel and Flynn Rider.)

This set wheels in motion in my head, but nothing's struck me as "the right" thing to blog about....

Until this morning— The fact that LOVE is a very tangled thing sometimes.

There is a multitude of reasons for relationships to fall apart, in reality as well as in novels, but the one thing that remains true is LOVE. Love is the singular thing that can bring two people together, despite all obstacles and differences that set them apart from one another. Though they'll be pitted against each other throughout the story, our hero & heroine will work THROUGH the differences because LOVE rules that scenario. As a writer of those kinds of stories, I have to make sure they do or it wouldn't be much of a love story, now would it?

Major differences of opinion, beliefs, social standing & any number of other issues, can be the sword that runs deep into the heart of a relationship & kills it. Not everyone is meant to be together, even when they "believe" they love each other with all their hearts. And self-love is just as important as the love received or given by another. Extenuating circumstances do not bode well for certain relationships. Sometimes there are issues of trust. Sometimes that which divides us is more powerful then the love we feel. Sometimes what we feel is just not the strong abiding kind of love that can rescue the relationship if it's doomed to failure anyway.

Personal experience reminds me that sometimes love is just not enough. So here is where things get "tangled."

I once thought I'd found a Prince—a man who'd stand beside me & bolster me up & believe in my dreams because he loved me. He pursued me & won my heart. He encouraged my dreams- my poetry & writing. He swore his unconditional love to me. He said he knew I was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but over the few years together, our relationship grew & changed & I did, too.

I'd grown unhappy in this "love." I wasn't working at anything, not even my writing, I'd gained weight, hated myself & felt lost because I'd lost my self-love and I knew I was the only one who could get that back. So I broke off the relationship. He kept coming back, pursuing me because he "loved" me so much and eventually we got back together.

Between the time we broke up & got back together I'd found a job, lost weight & felt like "me" again. AND I was thinking about my writing. But the job ended when the business went belly up & I decided to pursue a writing workshop to "hone" my skills if I really wanted to become a published author. He was all for it...at least it seemed that way at first. We were talking plans for our future together, talking to realtors about houses, but sometimes it's when you're the closest to making a mistake, that's when true colors emerge & true selves can't help being who they are. A switch flipped and it was the beginning of the end. (Especially since his family were always doggedly reminding me that it takes two working people to survive and were always throwing the want ads in my face.)

"My parents don't think we can make it, but don't worry, NOTHING they say can change how I feel about you."
Followed shortly by----
"I can't LOVE you if you don't have a job."

HUH?!?!?!?

Yeah, it happens that fast. I tried to get a job, now that love had new conditions, but I got the job for the wrong reasons (which didn't last long), thinking it would help me "keep" his love. That's not supposed to be how love works, is it? And as for supporting & encouraging my dream of becoming a writer? Yeah, that got chalked up to a pipe dream, too, because it might never amount to anything. The man who loved me, no longer believed—not in my dream, not in our love & not in ME. It seemed to me that "nothing" was a lot stronger than I ever imagined, for that "nothing" changed everything.

So what happened? When the relationship finally met it's bitter demise, I tucked away my writing, my dream, quite like Rapunzel in her tower because I didn't love myself enough to remember that they were MY dreams, not his. And it took me nearly ten years to seek out that tower again, hidden behind overgrowth & bramble & vine to rescue my dreams from their captivity. And rescue it I did. Look how far I've come.

My publication is still a few months off for my debut release of my historical romance entitled Castaway Hearts, but it's coming. Love is a tangled thing sometimes, but now I remember that my self-love is just as important. And I don't foresee locking my dreams in that tower ever again.

And Away We Go, Lil Monster!

June is almost over and the manuscript is (finally) in my editor's hands now. Totally love my characters, but kind of glad to get a break from them and hoping *fingers crossed* she loves them, too.

I think I got brain-fried on these edits. I'm not the first author to admit I'm my own worst critic and given the opportunity, I can rip myself to pieces. In that process, I end up worrying that I've done more harm than good and end up second guessing myself a lot.

If only I could learn to control the fear-mongering self-doubt monster who haunts my every moment. That little goblin(we will call him Munchie) had his hands around my neck while I was submerged in self-edits and reformatting. He nearly made me cry a few times when his grip grew tight enough to leave bruises or his claws sank in a little too deep when I got frustrated or confused or just downright baffled as to whether I was headed in the right direction.

I somehow survived, though there was much gnashing of snaggled gruesome teeth against my shoulder and vicious growling as I fought him off. (This would not hold up in a police report, as his marks cannot be seen with the naked eye)

He'll be back, I'm sure. I don't think he ever quite goes away since he's a small part of me, ugly as he is. I just have to keep him in check. Perhaps I need to chain him up in the basement for a while. Find a way to "tame" that wild little beast so that he can be my companion rather than my enemy. Perhaps he could sleep at my feet under the desk while I write....

There IS something to be said for having the ability to look at your work and see all it's good and bad qualities and in learning to harness that knowledge. It's the best of both worlds when you can LOVE your manuscript and still use that critical eye to see and repair the flaws while keeping true to the story you wish to tell.

So, what's my plan now that said manuscript is with editor?

A mini-vacay and reformatting and prepping other finished manuscripts. Tightening and polishing until they shine like a sparkly bauble. I'm hoping to find homes for my other babies, too, so I must continue on...

I think Munchie is already snapping at my ankles to get back to work.

Happy Tuesday!
Write On!

Reading Through

Reading through my manuscript aloud should be simple. I re-read through letters I've written to my grandmother to make sure I've included all pertinent news of what's going on in our lives or to check for grammar errors. (She was a librarian for many years at Asbury College.)

I reread letters to teachers when we've had concerns in regard to our kids and I sometimes have trouble reading through favorite authors without seeing mistakes that made it through edits and into print, so you would think reading through my own writing- my own story, I would be just as apt to notice the same issues.

Not so. I've gone through my manuscript at least 5 times over the past several weeks and it wasn't until last night as I started the actual read-through that I noticed one glaring issue that jumped right off the page.

The original sentence I started out with was—

"This man's hair, silky raven in color, slicked back away from his smooth tanned forehead."

At some point the word THIS got changed into HIS (perhaps a bad backspace on my part at some point in the editing process) but I ended up with the following—

"His man's hair, silky raven in color...."

You get where I'm going, don't you?

His MAN'S HAIR? I started reading this sentence to my husband and he immediately stopped me mid-sentence and went to a bad place.

I tried to derail his train of thought- NO, it was not THAT hair! (LOL)

In the end I went with "His hair, silky raven in color, slicked back away from his smooth tanned forehead."

But needless to say, it gave my husband and I a good laugh before bedtime.

Not unlike the crazy dreams I had about Micky D's fish filets and tartar sauce last night.

Now, if only they delivered....

Back to the grindstone.

Have a fantabulous start to the week!
Write on!