Make a Wish

Today is my birthday. Those wishing to send me elaborate gifts, let me know and I will provide my address. 😉

Every year on my birthday, my BFF writes some variation of the following phrase in my card: This is going to be the best year ever!

Outwardly I roll my eyes, but secretly, I love reading that. It’s more than just a sweet sentiment. It’s reassuring, in a very uneasy time in my life.

The past year has been a big writing year for me. No, I didn’t get published or bag an agent. I didn’t even win any contests. Hell, I didn’t even enter any. But I found something more important. My writing mojo. It was gone for awhile but I just feel so assured that I’m on the right path now.

So this birthday I’ve decided to take my BFF’s advice and have the best year ever. More specifically, I’m going to have the…
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C’est La Vie

Happy Bastille Day, everyone!

I spent the morning trying to figure out how to make this blog post relevant to June 14th, but I could not come up with anything decent regarding the rise of the bourgeoisie or cake. (Anything decent about cake.) I went through a few popular French phrases: Ou est mon chat? and Lassiez les bon temps rouler! and Ceci n’est pas un pipe, but none of those really spoke to me. And I only have about fifteen minutes to write this blog post, because the Fairy Goddaughters spent the night (the internet is down at their mom’s house) and I had to make sure they ate, and I had to tell them some more stories about my recent trip to Vermont and give them a few things to do around the house today because I have to get read for working a none-hour shift at the bookstore today.

Notice how nothing in there included writing? That’s right. I’m having an abundance of Life right now. So…
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Exercise and Writing–Yea, Write! . . . I Mean Right!

How many of you find yourself working on that scene—you know the one where your characters are finally getting into the juice of the story, working on that love scene you just can’t walk away from until it’s finished and bam, another day has gone by while you promised yourself you’d start exercising again? Okay, maybe it’s just me. Lately I’ve been so focused on my writing/editing/researching and yes, checking out blogs/websites/Tweeting—all in the name of my writing career. In the meantime, I’ve managed to find my clothes a bit snug and soda cans piling up in my trash can. My favorite words lately—‘Just a few more sentences. Let me finish this scene.’ By the time I’m done I don’t have the energy to work out or it’s time to fix dinner, or some other excuse. That was me, a year ago. I was spending time applying to jobs on-line along with my hubby who’d been laid off (I was…
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Shut Up and Listen

I’ve been out of touch recently, lavishing in the brief respite from the buzzing schedule of my normal life. My family and I have seen a few sights, visited with grandparents, attended a reunion and just relaxed. I’ve enjoyed basking in the sun by the pool with a favorite book (that I’m reading for fun, not research), the air permeated by the familiar scent of sunscreen while my kids swim with their friends. I’ve enjoyed taking my girls to the mall where we can walk and talk, have lunch and window shop. And of course lots of giggling over boys—I do live with two teenage girls after all. For me, a family vacation allows time to unwind and reconnect with each other without the day-to-day distractions of home life.

During the school year I’m all about schedules. Who has to be where? Soccer, field hockey, volleyball, basketball, track, chorus, cello, friends,…
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What Is It Worth To You?

Being at the RWA national conference must have triggered some deep-level thought processes I was unaware of.

What do you want? What are you prepared to do?

Here’s the story – I was a member of NYSC for several years.  I loved that gym and all it had to offer.  I’d  joined with a friend who later discovered that she would get a cheaper membership with her school district’s corporate membership, and she loved getting that bargain.  I tried every trick in the book but I couldn’t match her. She worked closer to home. I didn’t. She made more money. I certainly didn’t! Even with a husband who’d been tossed out of work, there was no mercy. Pay the price, or take a hike.

But, because her school district had negotiated a corporate membership, she had advantages I didn’t. And I was supposed to be happy. I wasn’t. I kept thinking about leaving, but couldn’t find a gym that would…
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Happy Fourth of July!!!

July 4th is my favorite holiday. I could watch fireworks on a nightly basis. Perhaps my love of glitter and sparkles has something to do with it.

Plus, the Fourth of July is fun. There is no present-buying-stress like Christmas. Sure, you may get some picnic or barbecue food together, but that doesn’t seem to be as stressful as a huge Thanksgiving dinner.

Instead, July 4th is easy. It’s summer, the weather is (hopefully) beautiful and you can just relax and celebrate with friends and family. Again, hopefully with fireworks.

But the real reason why this is my favorite holiday is the meaning. Let’s take a moment to remember the significance of this day; what it represents and why we celebrate it. The Fourth of July is about freedom.

I’ve been thinking about my love for this relaxing holiday and how it makes me feel. Interesting that that same easiness and carefree feeling used to be applied to my writing. Before I learned about publishing contracts, query letters, protecting your…
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The End

So I watched season premiere of True Blood the other night. Tradition holds that I enjoy an adult beverage or two while I’m watching my favorite vampire/warewolf/fairy/telepath/God-I-Love-Lafayette TV show. That first beer went quick (it was a hell of a week), so I hit pause to make a quick kitchen run. That’s when I saw the show was already half over.

“No!” I squealed. (Yes, I really did squeal, this is not a proud moment for me.)

Waiting a week for the next episode would be bad enough, but I’ll be twiddling my thumbs for two weeks because as you read this I’m on vacation. And while my parents have lots of fun stuff at their house, HBO is not one of them. I’d like to say that’s the only reason for my outburst, but the truth is that any time I’m sucked into another character’s world I hate having to step out of it.

You know the feeling. You’re…
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For Those Going to Nationals . . .

If you’ve seen this already, I hope you enjoy it again.

To all my writing sisters out there going to RWA Nationals—

• Be careful on your trip.

• Stay safe

• Have fun

• Learn lots

• Meet new friends (finally meet face to face with those you’ve only talked to via on-line loops, chats, etc.)

• Be inspired

• Be amazed

• Be safe (again)

• Be supportive

• Be loving

• Be kind to others

• Don’t sweat the small stuff

• Don’t forget 7 pairs of clean panties (read about forgetting underwear on trip—not good unless you are used to going without)

• Don’t walk out of the ladies room with t.p. stuck to the bottom of your shoe (or your dress caught in your pantyhose)

• When squeezing lemon into your water, cup both hands around your lemon wedge to keep the juice/ seeds from flying in…
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No Room for Doubt

Do you ever spend hours, days, weeks pouring your heart and soul into your writing only to go back, read it and think, “Oh my God, what was I thinking? This is crap. I have no talent. No one will ever want to read this.”

Well, guess what? You’re not the only one!

I love to write. I love the creative process and making the story come alive on the page. For me it is not just the destination (the finished story), but also the journey getting there (developing characters, and hammering all of those twists and turns into place). But I often find, especially during my editing process that doubt creeps in. I start wondering what the heck I’m doing. Wondering why I ever thought that I could write a book.

Recently, while going through one of these moments, a friend introduced me to a new type of encouragement…
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Why Can’t Weeds Be Flowers?


Looking at life through the eyes of a child, I’ve learned to see the possibility and joy in the small, everyday things.  To search for the magic.  To believe in the magic.  It’s only as we grow older that innocent wonder abandons us.  Or do we abandon the wonder?

I remember my daughter running to me on stubby little legs with a fistful of dandelions.   Her wide smile split her face and pride glimmered in her eyes when she handed me those beautiful flowers.  To me, they were weeds.  To her, a glorious find.   Since I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d just handed me a bunch of weeds, I thanked her and put them in a bud vase on the kitchen counter.

But something strange happened.  Every time I washed my dishes or felt the urge to gripe about cleaning the counters, those weeds stopped me cold.  Stored forever in my mind will be my daughter’s smile.  Granted, they weren’t long-stemmed red roses, but they…
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