Name that Book - Bree MacGowan number Three

Here we go again. It seems like I was just here trying to name Mermaid Girls – now Glimmer Girls. And once again I’m looking for your help. I’m starting the third in my Bree MacGowan mysteries and I need a title.

The first two books have titles that are twists on song titles. Moonlighting in Vermont, song Moonlight in Vermont. California Schemin’, song California Dreaming. The third book is to take place back in Vermont. I think. I suppose it could be set partially in Canada, New Hampshire, or Mass.

So the thing is I need a song with a place in the title. Preferably a State.

Okay here’s the challenge: come up with some songs and tweak the titles so they’re appropriate for the title of a humorous mystery.

Ready?

Set.

Go…

The Evil of Editor Envy

One day I'm going to find out that people have actually been reading my blog, and boy am I going to be embarrassed! As long as I pretty much think that I'm talking to myself I can say anything I want. After all, cyberspace isn't judgmental. Heck cyberspace doesn't have time to be judgmental. It's too busy directing traffic.

I've been thinking lately about the evils of wanting to be someone else. Or even wanting to be like someone else. It's no secret that I want to be like certain other writers who work with a certain editor who I'm completely in awe of. That editor is a star maker, and damn if I don't want to be a star.

But I have an editor. In fact, considering the number of writers who are never published, I'm dang lucky to have an editor. She took a chance on me when no one else would, including the star maker. So here I sit, wishing I were someone other than who I am. At the very least someone who has the time to both write and market effectively. And somewhere else someone else is wishing they were me. Wishing that at the very least someone would take a chance on them.

The truth is that we are all in the cycle somewhere. And although logic tells me we can't all be stars, I can't help but think that my time will come. My star will rise. Wishful thinking? Maybe. But it's the belief that it's possible to obtain our goals that keeps me trying. Keeps me juggling the writing with the marketing with the kids with the husband with the dogs. Because I want it all, and no one has been able to convince me that I can't have it.

Time Management - or my lack thereof

First I have to say I love the word "thereof." Don't know why. Couldn't define it if you paid me. I know what it means though, and in this case it's referring to my lack of time management skills. Like now, I have several projects on my plate. The most important being Chapter six of California Schemin'. So far today I've opened the file and noted that I've written 677 words so far - but none today. I also have a beaded necklace to finish for my niece's birthday. That's not any less important - and probably more important to her. I want to mail it tomorrow so it's high on the priority list. I've already fixed the mock turtles costume for the high school's performance of "Alice in Wonderland."

I have seven songs to memorize for the chorus I belong to. We perform the first weekend in Dec. That's pretty high up there too. I have one song written on the white board so that's started. There's the scarf for my daughter that's nine tenths of the way finished. And then the hat that goes with it. The scarf I promised to a student doesn't have to be done until January so that's low on the list, but the presents for Christmas are starting to scream at me. I managed to send out my daily message about Kate George's Shameless Self Promotion Week on Facebook this morning, but there's at least one other thing hanging over my head but I can't remember it at the moment. It will jump out at me later and give me a heart attack with it's urgency. Oh and there is the eight hours I spend babysitting high schoolers in study hall every day.

My friends say I take too much on. That could be true. But I think my real problem is that I don't manage my time appropriately. Like this morning, I could have been working on any of the aforementioned tasks (that's another word I really like - aforementioned) but instead I was answering emails, reading blogs, sewing the turtle shell - I have to give myself some credit for getting something done - Oh and I talked to one of my sons' teachers about his overdue homework. He had the flu and I think that's a good enough excuse, and now so does she.

How do you prioritize when everything is Important? The writing should come first, don't you think? But what about promises made to children - those are really the top of the top of the list. Can I work on each thing for fifteen minutes? Would that work? I tried delegating the necklace to a talented student, but she has homework to do. So somehow I'm going to have to get it all done. Starting with the necklace I think, then the writing, God knows what I'm going to do about Christmas...

Oh the pressure.

Why is it that given the opportunity to get some publicity and spread my name around by guest blogging, I can't think of a darn thing to say? I started writing about voice, and what it is about other author's that makes me keep picking up their books. Boring! Boring, boring, boring.

Not even I want to read that post. Heck, I didn't even want to write it. It put me right into doze mode.

This is how bad it is - I had to stop in the middle of this blog and get myself a cup of tea.

Surely there is something interesting to be said about writing. Something that hasn't been said a million and one times before? If you know what it is tell me, because obviously I can't figure out what it is.

On a more humorous note, some of you may know that I'm impersonating an educator at a high school this year, overseeing the study hall. This position has it's ups and downs. One really big up is that when everyone is on task it's permissible for me to work on my writing. Such as now. The down side is there are a couple of hours during the day when the immaturity of the students makes it insufferable in here. - Why is it that certain teenage boys think it's acceptable to fashion shivs out of paper clips and use stick pins to impale people? - But onto the fun part...

A little while ago a group of the nicer seniors came to see me. I don't know, seven or eight of them. (Realize that we have a tiny school the entire graduation class is only maybe 40 kids.) Each of these seniors came to me with an add/drop slip. On this slip they each requested to add my 2nd period class and drop the advanced math class they were enrolled in. These eight kids comprise maybe ninety percent of that math class. The reason for the switch: Can't understand the teacher.

It might be helpful for you to know that the math teacher is well liked and has played a practical joke or two of his own. I've yet to hear what he has to say about the matter. Actually, I can't wait, I'm sure he'll rise to the occasion. But what makes me smile the most is the fact that the seniors included me.

It's not just students that want to fit in. I'm in the unique position of being neither a teacher or a typical aid. I don't really have a peer group here, and my schedule is such - booked solid except for a twenty minute lunch break each day - that I have very little contact with adults. Being included by a group of students was a break from the isolation, and that it was for a joke makes it even better.

Conservatism vs. Liberalism

Wondering where I've been? Me too! Time is a fickle mistress and all that.

Recently, I've been having a conversation with a friend who is the polar opposite of me politically. I don't like mixing politics with friendship. I discovered that the politics of people I like can fall very far from where I stand. I tend to believe that my friends (and relations) want what they think is best for the world in general. They are generous people, smart, funny, loyal - everything that friends should be. So I ignore the fact they would think I'm out of my political mind if they knew. And perhaps they do know, I am pretty transparent after all, and I assume they feel the same way as I do. It's not necessary to share political ideals to like a person.

Don't get me wrong, I also have friends who are on the same political wavelength as myself. I'm glad to have those friends and relations stand beside me. They help me to remember I'm not that far out there. That I'm not alone in my beliefs. It's sort of like religion, it's okay not to be in the majority as long as there are a few folk around to confirm I'm not out of my ever-loving mind!

So how did I get involved in a conversation on political leaning? I've been asking myself that same question. I think I fell for the old you're-not-as-far-out-there-as-you-claim gambit. So I had to set about proving that I am. And really that wouldn't be so bad if I was good at stating my point. But I'm not. I get caught up in the "I'm being attacked" mindset. I make the mistake of taking it personally. Basically, I'm easy prey.

The same friend I got into this conversation with has classified me as a feeling person who happens to think. He classifies himself as a thinking person who happens to feel. Perhaps he's right. I believe things because I "feel" that they are right. I haven't thought out the logic - although other thinkers who have the same leanings as I do have logical reasons for what we believe. I could do the research, and have done in the past, but not to arm myself for a conversation with a friend.

I've never considered it necessary to load up on amo before accepting a friendly invitation to debate. And perhaps that's my problem. Any high school debate team member would tell you that you can't win if you don't know both sides inside out. You have to be able to argue your opponent's side even better than they can. But not me. I walked into an Obama vs. McCain without a moments thought.

And what horrible thing happened? Nothing much. My friend may now realize I'm as out there as I claim. He has no reason to re-evaluate his own stance, because I couldn't give him any logical reason to do so. And it's doubtful any re-evaluating would have happened anyway. So no harm no foul. Right?

So why am I left feeling so… what? Misunderstood? Frustrated at my inability to communicate that which I believe deeply in? Yes, both of those. And more. I'm left with an uneasy feeling that I've done something wrong. Should I apologize to my friend? For what? Disagreeing with him politically? That's where we started. For taking our "conversation" personally? Surely he knows me well enough to know that I would take it personally. For letting him talk me into a debate that I was unprepared for?

So this is why I don't talk politics with my friends. When all is said and done, I'm ill equipped for the consequences. I'm left feeling uneasy and not really knowing where our friendship stands.

What I've learned about me

So here's the deal. This is stuff that should have been very apparent to me years ago. After all, how old am I? But sometimes I just have to get to the "quit fighting yourself" stage and just give in. So what do I know?

• I write better in the early morning and late at night. Or at least when the house is quiet.
• I can't write at all if the kids are within ear shot. They are just too dog gone distracting.
• That means summer is very hard for me.
• I can work on publicity stuff when the kids are around, but I have to be very careful or I'll write emails full of nonsense, like "Mom! Mackinley just got water all over the floor!"
• I write more quickly when I have a clear idea what I want to accomplish in a scene, but that doesn't mean the scene will come out better than if I don't know.
• I'm easily distracted by the Internet.
• I love talking (email) to people even if I don't know them.
• I'm useless in the mid-afternoon so I might as well stop beating myself up about the "research" I do before I have to make dinner. Especially the research I do with my eyes closed.
• While having a sound track helps me get back into the mood of a wip, leaving it on while I'm writing is a mistake. What kind of mistake, you ask? Somehow readers don't really "get" why lyrics pop into the middle of a paragraph.
• I use too many exclamation points!!!
• Reading a novel that's too removed from what I write while I'm writing messes up my voice.

What all of this means is I'm going to have to work from midnight to 5 am, sleep from 5 to 8 (AM) struggle through my day taking the kids to swimming and what not and then sleep from 9 pm to midnight.

Something else I've learned about myself: that schedule is never gonna work for me.

Balancing life in the fast lane

This week I'm taking care of my neighbor (and friend's) children. You may know that I have 4 of my own, add the three neighbor kids - well you can figure it out.  It's a lot of kids. The good part is that the new kids are better behaved than the old kids - and their house (which their mom claims is dirty) is spotlessly clean. Unlike my house, which is not spotlessly clean. By any stretch of the imagination.

Needless to say, I've been spending my time in the clean house. Which is new, not 200 years old, like my house is. 200 years old I mean. Not new.

My house is full of my junk, my kid's junk and my husband's junk. Only my kids and husband would say it's not junk - except for mine. We all agree that mine is junk, even me.

It's hard to write when the house is junky. It's tempting to start throwing things away. I probably should be throwing things away.  But the only way to get books written is to sit and write. So the junk will have to wait. And just so I'm not tempted to deal with junk, I think I'll go write in the clean, new house that is neighborless for the time being.