Home Again, Home Again

Last night I was revising my proposal and realized that I liked it better the old way. My process involves so much layering–rough plot, rough characters, rough setting, and then I smooth it out continuously. I rely a lot on gut instinct. If a passage doesn’t “feel right,” I keep working it until it does. I learned fairly early that any time I ignored my instincts and submitted a book while feeling that something was “not quite right,” I earned a rejection. If I was lucky enough to get a personalized rejection, the editor usually hit on what the problem was.

Today my son is home sick, so I’m going to hook him up with a nice blanket and a Star Wars movie for consolation. I’ll be puttering away on my book. Yesterday, once again the pediatrician’s office couldn’t get him in, and offered Wednesday as the soonest appointment. Uh, no. We went the Urgent Care route and after I saw the nurse, I told her she needed to do a strep test on him. Score one for Mom. That puppy came back positive. It’s funny how you just know your kids. When my son won’t eat his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I know he’s sick. The child would sell his sister for peanut butter. Well, he might sell her anyway because she gets on his nerves, but that’s neither here nor there.

They do need to come up with another strep test that doesn’t involve sticking a monster-sized Q-tip down your throat. Poor kid panicked as soon as he saw it. “Not the stick!” he yelled. I tried to talk him into some chewing gum as bribery, but he wouldn’t do it. Personally, I think a scanner would be nice. Something like they use at a check-out counter. Beep the back of your throat and there you are–instant test results.

Now how much do you want to bet that his sister will get sick on Friday at 3:00 p.m.? Any takers? She already has the cough…