Implants

My husband is a broken man. He's had six surgeries since we've been married and the doctor's want him to have another one on his shoulder. This time instead of trying to fix the shoulder, they want to give him a new one from a donor (a dead one). The doctors say that can't completely fix what's wrong. They can make it somewhat better, but he really just needs a new one.

This is how I feel with writing sometimes. Some of my chapters just aren't working. I try to change a word, a sentence, a paragraph, but in the end I really just need to start fresh with all new words. Which is a lot easier than getting an implant.

Back to editing and writing a hook for my query. I have the whole letter written, except the hook, maybe I'll post it later this week to get some feedback.

Hope you had a Happy Halloween.

We interrupt this break...

I'm coming out of hibernation to let you guys know about another great contest. Marieke interviewed Elana Johnson on how to write a good query letter. For anyone whose struggling, this is some great advice. Also you can win a critique from Elana, who wouldn't want that.

Back to editing.

An Oldie but a Goodie

I've decided to take the rest of the week off. I need to get myself organized. I'll be stalking around, but won't be posting anything new.

But for those who are new here's an old post that I liked.

The First Ten Minutes

I’m not one of those people who loves to run, but because I play soccer it’s a necessary evil. What I find the most interesting is that the first ten minutes are the hardest not the last ten.

It takes me ten minutes to get into a rhythm and for my body to get used to the pounding. If I can make it past ten minutes then I can run for another forty or more.

I find the same thing with writing. It takes me at least ten minutes to get into a groove where I’ve blocked everything else out: my kids, the internet, the TV, the dirty dishes. Usually it's when the kids are in bed, the internet and TV are off and my house is clean that I can sit down with a clear mind. Then once I get past that first ten minutes then I’m good to go and I can write for hours. Okay, maybe not hours, but it sure feels like it.

Waiting and Wishing

It seems to me that I am never content.

As a kid I used to start a lot of phrases with I can't wait until . . .

- I can date.
- I can get my driver's license.
- I finish high school.
- I get a boyfriend
- I get married
- even I can't wait to have kids

Now that I'm older my days are filled with I wish . . .

- I had done better in school,
- I wish I hadn't been so boy crazy (which probably would have allowed me to do better in school).
- I wish I would have dated more.
- I wish I would have wore my own wedding dress.
- I wish I would have been more serious about writing sooner.
- I wish I . . . okay, well you get the point.

Sometimes it's so hard to be happy in the here and now. To look at the things you have and not worry about the things you don't. I know I've talked about this before, but I've had a bit of crybabyitis this past week, mostly because I'm comparing myself to others, which is always bad.

So it's time to get over myself and live my own life. Who's with me?!

Difference between boys and girls

The other week my son got his learners. He can now drive, which is scary. In fact, me and my husband rock, paper, scissored, to see who had to take him out first.

Anyway, back to my point. We were updating his information for the license (height, eye color, etc) and he noticed that his weight was wrong. "I'm ten pounds heavier," he says.

I had to laugh, because a girl would never in a million years say, actually I'm heavier now.

Right now I'm editing a book where the POV are from two different males. I need to make sure I stay true to how boys act. I had a scene where one boy cried and a beta reader pointed out that most boys don't cry. Little things like that I need to consider.

Do you write in a girl's POV or a boy's? And if it's a boy, what do you do to make sure you stay true the male species?

We're all in this together

Tonight I went to a Speaker Series event sponsored by the local SCBWI chapter. They had Janet Gurtler and Angela Ackerman talk about agents. I knew a lot about the agent search, but I still learned a lot, which goes to show, you can always learn more.

What was interesting is they started talking about sites that I visit, resources that I use, the process of getting an agent, what an agent does for you. It made me think that we really are all in this together. We all have similar goals and the same passion - writing. And it's great that we support each other so much.

Also, I met fellow blogger Stina there, which was great to meet someone in person. I'm always so jealous when I see pictures of writers meeting at conferences.

Overall it was a great night, even though I had to burrow $40 for gas from my boss in order to get there.

250 word blog fest

I just found out about this today and wanted to participate. Elle Strauss
is hosting a first page, 250 word blog fest.

So here's my latest project. Yikes!

Oliver strutted down the main street of Archgilly as a crowd amassed behind him. He tipped his hat to the women and shook hands with the men. Little children ran up clamoring to touch his sleeve. When he reached the Rumina, he turned and bowed to the cheers of the people. Four years ago, no one knew his name; now they chanted it as he entered the building.

He slipped down the corridor and opened a door to find the three Elders sitting behind a great oak desk. They squinted at him as he slid into the room. “Sit down Oliver, sit down,” the Elder, Faraday said, his wrinkled face barely visible in the mountains of gray hair.

Oliver took a seat. The noonday light barely eked through the dusty windows causing the room to exude a certain gloominess. “Are you ready to know what your final task will be?” the Elder, Reverie asked, his voice squeaking like a mouse.

On the street surrounded by smiling faces and words of encouragement, Oliver brimmed with confidence, but now perspiration formed on his brow, and dripped down his forehead. He took out a handkerchief and wiped it away before it descended any further.

Faraday stood up and rested his hands against the desk as he began the same speech he gave Oliver every time he had come to the Rumina for instructions. “Being a Defender has a rich and distinguished history. They are called upon to protect the water that flows through our lands, the water that is the lifeblood of our community, the water that allows us all to live long and happy lives without pain and suffering.”