The End is Near!

This morning there were several fish missing in action. Thankfully they were only hiding, but I’m starting to become paranoid. All the guppies are dead and there is a body I can’t find. I’m wondering if maybe the sick one died first and the other two tried to eat him and thereby poisoned themselves.

Is there a fish CSI, do you think?

Last night, I made a very hard decision about my book. There was one magnificent scene that I absolutely LOVED. The writing was great, the emotion was fabulous, and the hero and heroine were so happy together. Hence the problem. I had successfully shot down the conflict. The only way to fix it was to sacrifice the scene. I tried to tweak it, but ultimately, it had to go. And boy did it hurt to get rid of it. Once I rewrote it and added all the conflict back in, I knew the book was stronger. In fact, once I made the change, I was able to revise up through page 314. The end is near! :jumping: I still have one other fix that I need to make–I had some backstory in there that I was skimming on another read-through. It occurred to me that if I was skimming, someone else would too. Argh. So I’m going to try and condense the information.

Last night I had to take tickets for the 7th/8th grade football game. Let me tell you, middle school sports are an eye opener. I’m accustomed to watching college football or the NFL. When a middle schooler catches a pass, it’s nothing short of a miracle. :hello2: And when the quarterback yells the play information, sometimes his voice breaks. I felt like a Mama Hen. Aww, look at the widdle boys trying to crush each other. How sweet. :dance:

Back to School Night

Last night was Back to School Night, an event I usually dread. :shark: You never know what you’ll get. I’ve had parents hunt me down thirty minutes before it starts to try and get an impromptu conference. I’ve had others who wanted to give excuses for why their child didn’t do their work. :blahblah: Still others try to pin me down at the end and give me their life’s history. But I have to say, last night was probably one of the better ones. It might have had something to do with the fact that I hid in another teacher’s classroom with the door locked until five minutes before it started.

In any case, I gave my spiel and I did my lottery drawing. I talked about the history warm-up question of the day (yesterday’s was about the group of folks who rushed into Oklahoma to steal land before the others) and I drew a number out of a hat. The parent who was sitting at that desk number had a chance to win if they knew the answer. They guessed Sooners and won a Parent’s Night Off pass. Basically it’s a homework extension pass giving the child one extra day. The parents were so funny. One turned to the winner and said, “I’ll give you $50 for that.” Another threw her hands in the air when she won and yelled, “YES!” :jumping:
There wasn’t a huge turnout, which surprised me, but it was a good group of parents.

Earlier in the evening, I had to wrangle with the installation/delivery people who didn’t get in touch with me at work and subsequently I have to wait until SATURDAY for my new dishwasher. :banghead: I believe they heard my primal scream of, “Noooooooooo!!!!!” all the way down to Virginia Beach. 4 more days of washing dishes by hand. I would have thrown myself off a cliff if I lived in pioneer days. The medieval castle folk had it right–let’s eat off pieces of old bread and then give the “dishes” to the poor.

Last night I hit page 261 in revisions. 100 pages left. And I think (fingers crossed) this segment will be an easy one because it doesn’t have any major flaws–just tweaking. After that, I’ll e-mail it off to England and slowly turn into a melted ball of nerves as each day passes.

Finally, we had more fish casualties. Let’s all cue the Queen music–”Another One Bites the Dust…” :headbang: Michelle, the Fish Serial Killer, strikes again. The Tank of Death reigns supreme!

Special Grandparents

My Dot Moms column is up today. I’ve dedicated this one to grandparents everywhere. I think you’ll see what I mean. :goodvibes:

Today, the heavens opened, the angels sang, and there was great rejoicing throughout the land. Yes, my daughter used the toilet. :wave:

No one ever told me that there would come a time when the bodily functions of my children would become more important than world peace or curing cancer. You fall into this trap of thinking that–oooh! This might be the start to a diaper-free existence! And of course, it’s all a big tease. They decide to train themselves when it’s time. You can’t force it. In fact, the more you force it, the more they rebel and stay in diapers longer. So, yes, I know this was a fluke. But I’m going to have a big grin on my face ALL DAY. ‘Cause maybe, just maybe, she’ll do it again. :dancingfool:

I’m up to page 222 on my revisions. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Woo hoo!

One fish, two fish…

The other day we took a family “field trip” back to the pet store after our replacement female guppy died within twenty-four hours. I then encountered a young man, who hereafter shall be known as Fish Geek. :whistle: He looked approximately eighteen years old.

In order to get the refund on the fish, they’re supposed to do a water test and find out what caused the fish to die. Now I’m a believer that sometimes fish just kick the bucket. The life span of guppies just isn’t the same as crabgrass (which refuses to die, no matter how much you spray it). I allowed Fish Geek to check the water.

While we waited on the test, he pointed toward another sales associate who was operating a fork lift. “I just love those. Except it makes me nervous when my brother drives one. Of course, I’m faster than him.”

Just test the water, Fish Geek. Spare me your life story. I don’t need your secret Nascar desires to race forklifts :loser:

He clucked his tongue. “Looks like you have some high nitrite levels.” He stares at the ph levels and says, “Got some really nice colors here. The brighter the colors, the worse your water is.” He adds, “Well, you really need to change the water every few days for a while until the levels get lower. How often do you change the tank?”

Never, Fish Geek. I surrendered all tank responsibilities to my darling husband. I have two slobbering, diapered darlings to chase. I refuse to clean fish tanks, too.

“My husband changes the water about once a week.” Please note, that the aforementioned husband is cruising the aisles of the pet store, so as to completely escape the presence of Fish Geek.

“Oh. Well, you really shouldn’t change the water that often. It’s probably stirring up the bacteria at the bottom of the tank. Once every few weeks should be enough.”

Me: “But you just said to change it every few days.”

Fish Geek: “Oh. Well, just until the nitrite levels get lower.”

Me: “Well, I wanted to get an algae eater for the tank.” (At this moment, my son is whining, “Mommy, I want to go see the birds!”)

Fish Geek: “You won’t be able to add any fish for at least a month. Unless you want them to all die, of course.”

Yes! I am a Fish Serial Killer! Die little fishies, die! :shark:

At this point, I am convinced that Fish Geek is clearly talking out of his nether regions. Time for an escape route. I get him to authorize the refund and I hightail it out of there, grabbing the toddlers, and marching up to the cash register.

Hubby finally finds us and demands, “Why didn’t you get any fish?”

I suppressed the urge to begin cursing in tongues and instead glared at him. :starwars:

Long story short, today I went back a week later and we now have two new guppies and an algae eater. They seem pretty chipper. Hopefully there will be no more flushes for a while.

The Glass is Half-Full

Another acquaintance of mine, Jenna, sold her first book this week to Harlequin Modern Extra. This marks, I believe, the fourth new author sale of people I know. It’s exciting and inspiring. I remind myself that when I finish these revisions :mallet:, I could be next if I do them right. It’s a terrific motivator.

When I first started writing, I wasn’t aware of the odds. I didn’t realize that most publishers have a certain number of book slots available each month for romance (4-6). That accounts for 48 to 72 books a year. Not bad, right? But now think about how many of those slots are already filled by published authors. And we all know there are a LOT of published authors. It leaves, perhaps, 2-3 books a year for new authors if we’re lucky. There are probably 1000 people competing for those slots. Impossible odds.

Or are they?

Publishers tell us that 90% of those submissions come from people who don’t know a lot about writing, who are trying to get rich quick, or who are certifiably insane (books about cohabiting goats from ancient Babylon, anyone??). The remaining hundred folks are good writers, but the book may lack that special spark. Or the book is beautifully written but the editors don’t particularly care about the characters. I’m guilty of writing about four of those kinds of books.

But I’m convinced this year will be different. I’ve gotten closer than I’ve ever come before. I have a book that I believe in, an editor who’s interested, and it’s up to me to make it happen. There are so many factors out of my control, but the writing is something I can control. If this book doesn’t get published, it won’t be for lack of trying.

In other news, who here is watching LOST with me? I love that show. I am in awe of the writers and I want to be them when I grow up. I’m very curious about Jack’s tattoo (is that space invaders on it?) and the true identify of Desmond. Is he Jack’s secret brother? Hmmm…can’t wait to find out.

Pacing your book

The deeper I get into these revisions, the more I realize that I had absolutely no concept of pacing. I would “wing it” to figure out when the first kiss would happen, when the first love scene would happen, etc. etc. Basically wherever it felt right, I’d go for it.

Now, I’m discovering that my instincts were way off. I resolved issues far too soon. I had no idea that romantic tension had to last pretty much until the last page. Hoo boy. Lots of rewriting.

I think writing emotional tension is, quite possibly, the hardest writing in the universe. You can’t tell your audience what the characters are feeling…you have to show it through their actions, through their internal thoughts, and it has to ring true. Give me an action scene any day. Much easier!

In other news, the “parents” are back in action. Yes, now that I’ve given a few quizzes and my first test, the excuses are coming from every direction. :loser: “We just moved here and she’s having adjustment issues.” “He lost his study guide.” “He/she didn’t know he had a test.” It’s funny how parents feel the need to speak on behalf of their kids. Many want to know when the retest will be. Uh…never? With 120 students, that ain’t happening. I have 31 kids in my fifth period class. Keeping up with basic communication is tricky enough, much less grading the papers. A lot of parents aren’t accustomed to middle school where their child is one of many. They seem to believe that teachers have the time to sign every agenda, call whenever they don’t do an assignment (excuse me while I laugh hysterically at that one):rotfl:, and drop everything for a conference.

The parents who I LOVE are the ones who say a simple, “Thanks for letting me know about the bad test. We’ll work on it.” Great! That’s all I want. No excuses, just–we’ll fix the problem. And it’s even better when they do. Love that.

My favorite feeling in the world is when you have a student who has bombed a quiz, but pulls it together and aces the test. That happened yesterday. A little girl got F’s on both her geography quizzes and then studied hard and earned a 98 on the test. I just want to give her a high five. :wave:

Anyway, enough rambling. Just wanted to say sorry to those who have visited my blog and I haven’t yet returned the favor. I’m working on that. :help: But I usually save my visits as a reward for finishing more revisions. If I haven’t visited you lately, I’ll be there soon! Promise!

Anniversaries

Yesterday my husband and I celebrated seven years of marriage. :hello2: Like any marriage, we’ve had our ups and downs, but I’d say in general they were mostly ups. We went out to dinner at the Trellis restaurant in Williamsburg, famous for its Death By Chocolate dessert. Yum. I swear, we were like giddy teenagers, handing our babies over to the hands of a fourteen-year-old while we scampered out the door. A night out! With no kids! Woo hoo! :wave: Never mind the fact that babysitting rates are tapping into their college education fund. They can both go ROTC, right? :whistle:

You tend to appreciate dates a lot more, once you have rug rats around. I make a concerted effort NOT to discuss the kids when we go out on a date. It’s nice to reconnect as adults and not parents. We enjoyed beef tenderloin, a bottle of wine, roasted potatoes, seasonal salad with blueberries, and Chocolate Temptation for dessert. :hungry: Loved it.

I met my husband on a blind date in college. We were best friends for a while and then it grew into a relationship from there, which in retrospect was the nicest thing that could have happened. We started dating in 1993 and were married in 1998 at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at the University of Notre Dame. And yes, I had a cathedral length veil and train because I wanted to be a Princess on my wedding day, dagnabbit. :dance: It was wonderful. Couldn’t have asked for a better day or better weather. We were stuck with a 9:30 a.m. wedding, but it actually worked out well because we had an afternoon reception and then we partied with family and friends that night after we changed back into casual clothes. At some evening receptions, by eleven o’clock I’m blinking my eyes in exhaustion.

Anyway, it leads me back to a question. What’s your favorite wedding memory, either yours or one you attended?

Jesus and Ears

Last Sunday was my son’s very first preschool religious education class. When I talked to him about it, his face furrowed up with worry. “I want to stay with you and go to grownup church,” he said. I talked with him about how much fun he would have, and how he would get to color and learn about church.

He didn’t look convinced, but he gripped my hand as we walked toward the classroom. I was surprised to learn his teacher was a man, a cop actually. Personally, I think we need more male teachers, so this was great. Smart man that he was, he had spread out some puzzles and Legoes on the floor for the kids who arrived early. This was the kicker. My son adores puzzles. And these were new ones! Fabulous puzzles with pictures of ambulances and fire engines! :headspin: I could see the mental dilemma forming in his mind.
I don’t want Mommy to leave me here. But there are puzzles! She can’t leave me by myself. But I want to do these puzzles!

Ultimately, the puzzles won out. He looked a bit concerned, but he was far more interested in snapping together the pieces. After Mass, I picked him up and asked him what he learned about. “Did you learn about Jesus?” I asked. He bobbed his head. “What else did you learn about?”
“Ears!” he said gleefully.
At first, I thought he was imagining things or making up stories. Then he handed me a coloring sheet that had pictures of televisions, radios, telephones, and…yep, ears. The pieces connected and I realized the theme for the week was: God listens to us. Got it.

So last night as I was tucking him into bed, I reminded him that he would go to Sunday School again while we went to Mass. “You’ll get to learn about Jesus some more,” I said, kissing him goodnight.
“And ears,” he grinned.

Look out, I’m going in…

Our dishwasher is leaking. The other morning I got up and found pools of water across the kitchen floor. :shocked: Ugh. At first we couldn’t figure out whether it was the dishwasher or the refrigerator, but that night we discovered the dishwasher door was the culprit. Yesterday I cleaned it up, scraping off the yuck that had caked onto the bottom of the door. It didn’t work. Now it leaks worse. Maybe the yuck was holding the water in! :ick: Now the question is whether to call a repairman on a 9-year-old dishwasher or bite the bullet and get a new one.

It reminds me vaguely of the revisions I’m doing. When I go back, I’m discovering plot leaks and chapters that need a good cleaning. I’ve even found a few of those–”What drugs were you on when you wrote this garbage??”–scenes. Thankfully I have a chance to cut those and add new ones. It’s a slow process, but the book will be stronger for it. Can’t wait until I can turn it in!

Just for fun, here are two pictures of the babies.

A drop of the Irish

I am feeling the sudden urge to speak Gaelic and “Riverdance” my way through the kitchen. After a wee bit of coercing, I convinced my husband to go to the liquor store and purchase some Irish whiskey and Bailey’s Irish Cream. After all, what could be better than an Irish coffee? :coffee2: Yum. We’ve been enjoying that after dinner, and tonight I am making corned beef and cabbage, with potatoes and carrots. I might as well hang out the Irish flag. Maybe I’ll pick up some soda bread at the store before supper.

Which reminds me….when I first married my husband, I had no idea that our dinner beliefs would be so different. We are so alike in many ways, but when it comes to food, I’m a southern girl. Food is deep fried and served with gravy. Black-eyed peas, broccoli loaded with cheese, and butter beans get served with dinner. Then there’s my mother’s midwestern influence where we make potato casserole, and dessert is always some sort of pie with ice cream.

Imagine my shock :confused: and horror when my husband did not want me to season our food. Roast beef was not meant to be cooked in a pan with French onion soup and water. It was to be served plain. With mashed potatoes, green beans, and brown n’ serve rolls. Always. Let me tell you, those first few years of marriage were interesting, when I informed him that potatoes would not be served at every meal (my husband is of Irish descent). :hungry: And worse! No carrots! I don’t like them.

We’ve learned to compromise through the years. I discovered how to cook corned beef (which we NEVER had in our household), and he learned to put up with my typical seasoning of Worcestershire sauce, lemon, and garlic salt. We try to keep desserts for special occasions, and we’ve even added our own dishes. I am proud to say that my hubby no longer orders ribs or steak at a restaurant because mine tastes better. :headspin: I’ve learned to cook fajitas on the grill, and Monterrey Chicken, two of our favorites.

But I am banned from casseroles. I’m not allowed to make them, or I have to accept the fact that he won’t touch them. What about your family? Are there certain foods that you won’t eat (I can’t stand venison or lamb)? Or are there family staples?