Our Song

“Oh, my love, my darling

I’ve hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Are you still mine?

I need your love

I need your love

God speed your love to me!”

- North, Alex, Zaret, Hy. “Unchained Melody” The Righteous Brothers

Last night, when I was driving to pick up my son from a friend’s house, “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers came on from my least hip programmed radio station. I turned to my daughter and asked, “Did you know this was our wedding song?”

A month before the wedding of my husband and me, when the wedding DJ asked for our song, we still hadn’t decided. But we had debated about it.

“Never Tears Us Apart” by INXS had always been one of my favorites. And the part:

“I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they will never tear us apart”

seemed appropriate for the way we met before Early Morning Gym*. Problem was that my soon-to-be husband didn’t like it.

“I Need Love” by L.L. Cool J was actually on the table for about half–a-second (http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/llcoolj/ineedlove.html). My husband used to rap it once in a while to be funny when it was popular so it had sentimental ties to him, I guess.

“Bridge Over Troubled Water” was nice, but not really “our” song. I don’t know who suggested it, but my then fiancé decided to use it for the mother-son dance instead. I wound up dancing to “Unforgettable” by Natalie and Nat King Cole with my father, which was all the rage for father-daughter dances back then. (I wonder how Nat would’ve felt about his daughter creating a posthumous duet.)

“One” by U2 was another one of my husband’s choices. If you don’t listen too carefully, it sounds like a love song. A couple of years after we were married, a friend from graduate school thought it was ludicrous the song was considered. “It’s about AIDS,” she said. (I don’t know if that’s true.) I was more concerned with the lyrics:

“You gave me nothing

Now it’s all I got.”

“You ask me to enter

But then you make me crawl

And I can’t be holding on

To what you got

Because all you got is hurt”

“Well we

Hurt each other

Then we do it again”

As usual, my husband failed to listen to the actual words. Or did he….

I suggested “Wrapped Around Your Finger” by The Police, but my soon-to-be husband didn’t like that either, even though it was about getting married + Sting. Perfect combination in my opinion. Though the lyrics are a bit pretentious. I don’t understand half of them: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/s/sting+police/wrapped+around+your+finger_20132153.html

I began to wonder if it was weird we didn’t really have A SONG. Didn’t every couple have one?

That movie “Ghost” used “Unchained Melody” by The Righteous Brothers, so the song had a comeback. I hadn’t seen the movie, and still haven’t. (I often shun popular movies. I still haven’t seen “Titanic” or “Avatar”.) But the song seemed lovely enough, even though it had no connection to us, so we agreed. (And apparently it’s a hard song to sing because they made a big deal of what a good job Clay Aiken did singing it on “American Idol”, not that I’ll admit to watching the TV Show.)

Our wedding day came, and it was time for the dance. It was the first time my husband and I were together in a sort-of-private way since that morning. (My family was stressing me out so he picked me up and we got a cup of coffee at 7-11.) Even though we were young, we waited a long time to marry. He’d been there through my parents’ divorce, a tough family transition, and for all those years of college. He got me. He got my family. He got my mother. As a teenager, I’d decided I’d never marry somebody who didn’t get my mother. He was sarcastic too, so I knew he was the one for me.

Now we had our own apartment in New York City waiting for us to finally move into that night. He and I looked into one another’s eyes with the realization we did it. We were finally married.

And the song became ours.

A couple of months later, I was driving to work and heard “When We Dance” by Sting for the first time:

“I’m still in love with you

(I’m gonna find a place to live

Give you all I’ve got to give)

When we dance, angels will run and hide their wings”

“Come and live with me

We’ll have children of our own

I would love you more than life

If you’ll only be my wife”

Damn, I thought, that would’ve been a good song too.

If only I’d bought the album before the wedding…

If I were getting married today, I’d choose “A Message” by Coldplay:

“My song is love

My song is love, unknown

But I’m on fire for you, clearly

You don’t have to be alone

You don’t have to be on your own"

"And I’m not gonna take it back

And I’m not gonna say, ‘I don’t mean that’

You’re the target that I’m aiming at

And I’m nothing on my own

Got to get that message home”

* Meeting my husband/anniversary Post:

http://theresamilstein.blogspot.com/2010/04/exercising-irony.html

In and Out

Main Street, Northport, NY

“Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to.”

- John Ed Pearce

During my week in New York, I decided to get together with a couple of high school friends at Gunther’s Pub down in Northport. Since my reunion, I’ve visited people I’d lost touch with a few times a year. On this particular night, I left my children with my in-laws early so I could walk around the old town by myself.

Traffic in the village was heavier than I anticipated. As I circled the two parking lots at the end of Main Street, hordes of senior citizens armed with lawn chairs headed towards the gazebo. How could I forget that there were concerts on Thursdays in the summer?

As a teenager, I hung out in that gazebo, mostly listening to the music of deadheads who graduated a number of years before me, but hadn’t moved on, strumming their guitars and singing. They were the types that would’ve gone (and probably still go) to Gunther’s. It wasn't my kind of music, but it is the sound of the town.

I spent countless hours with friends down in Northport. And when my husband and I dated and then married, we also spent many days and nights there. Until we moved to Cambridge, no matter where we lived in New York City or on Long Island, Northport was our home place. When I visit, especially in summer, I always make it a point to visit.

My son and husband often their hairs cut at the local barber, Oscar’s. The owner, Rick charges $3.50 for adults and $3.00 for children. I guess it’s all about volume. Then we stop at Harbor Trading so my kids can choose candy by the pound. Sometimes we get ice cream at Northport Sweet Shop. And my children love the toy store, Einstein’s Attic, which wasn’t there when I was a kid. Four Star Variety is like a small Woolworth’s but without the lunch counter. Remember those stores? And in warm weather, I take my mother down to the water while my children play in the two parks. One is the same metal playground that I played on when was a child, while the other is a newer plastic one.

There’s a place in town called Otto’s Shipwreck Diner. A director stopped in there once and decided it was the perfect location to film a diner scene for the film “In and Out” with Kevin Klein and Tom Selleck. Did you see it? It amazed me for two scenes, how long the crew stayed in town and how much they changed the town. The Chinese place (that no longer exists) called Wok on the Dock had to get a temporary sign to fit in a Midwest town. And when the film came out in 1997, the diner scene was a decent length, but the outside part lasted less than a minute.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_%26_Out

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northport,_New_York

For this trip, I finally found a parking spot in front of the bar and walked back down the street to the harbor. On the way, I witnessed a mother gathering her brood and reprimanding them with the accent, “Come awwn!” that sounded foreign and familiar.

I walked along the water and sat on a bench. The whole time, I snapped pictures, capturing what I love about the area. It’s at once like and unlike viewing the Boston skyline. Instead of buildings across the water, there are dots of houses. The Charles River is missing the salty scent of the Long Island Sound. And Memorial Highway behind me is noisier than Main Street. While sitting, it hit me that this October I’ll be in Cambridge for nine years. Northport really is no longer home no matter how often I visit.

And while I miss it, there’s also a sameness to the place and people that doesn’t reflect who I am. But here, I settle into my past and feel peaceful. It’s not my current home, but it will always be home.

I watched the sun set in the sky, and then made my way back up Main Street.

Perspectives

“My cancer scare changed my life. I’m grateful for every new, healthy day I have. It has helped me prioritize my life.”

- Olivia Newton-John

In case you’re feeling sorry for yourself…

I know I do. Too often.

While I try to put my angst over not:

finding a job

being published

into perspective,

I often indulge in my own personal dramas.

In May, a parent of another child in my son’s class died*, and since I found out, I’ve thought about her everyday. During the last week of school, I spoke to another parent and found out more about her illness. Those details made me feel the brunt of her loss all over again. I think about the family of four that has now become a family of three.

Jackee’s mother has cancer too and has battled it for a long time. (http://windedwords.blogspot.com/)

These are reminders that things can be so much worse. When things are going well, when people around us are healthy, remind yourself of your good fortune. Treasure it.

The curse of living a long life is that we “win” the race of longevity. We watch many others around us die.

My maternal grandmother came to America from Sicily when she was three-years-old in 1913. She was one of eleven children. She lived in a tenement house on the Lower East Side of New York City. The oldest, she dropped out of school in third-grade to help support the family by doing piecework. Only three of her siblings made it to adulthood. One babe, at age three, died in her arms of tuberculosis. “That was hard,” she once told me.

This grandmother had five children whom she raised in Queens, New York. She lived into her 90s, outliving her husband, her siblings, and many other relatives and friends. For many years she languished in a nursing home, living but not living.

The story is different for my paternal grandmother. Of Irish descent, she was born in America a year after my maternal grandmother, and lived her first years in upstate New York. When she was five, her father, a conductor on a trolley, stepped off, and was hit by an oncoming trolley. Her mother soon remarried. One day, her grandma came over and her mother left. Asking where her mother had gone to, she was told her mom went to have a baby. She hadn’t known her mother was pregnant. How did she feel when she found out she had a little brother? “Boy, was I mad,” she said.

She frequented speakeasies with my grandfather during Prohibition. Right after getting married, she became pregnant. That was the first of four children. She lived in Queens, New York (ten minutes from my other grandmother) for most of her life, with her best friend in the same town. She outlived her husband and stepbrother. When she was in her 80s, her best friend died and she took it very hard, harder than we knew. I think my grandma was closer to her than anyone else in her life. Not so much time had passed after the death of her friend when my grandmother died of a heart attack. My father found her when he went to check in on her after she hadn’t answered her phone.

I’d rather go quickly than languish.

I’d rather get to say goodbye than to be taken suddenly.

Do I want to live a long life to endure more goodbyes of those I love?

When it’s my time, I won’t get to decide any of these things.

But I don’t want to dwell on death - I want to dwell on life.

Why am I writing this post? Because my writer-friend, Selena Sheaves has finally left her job. She’s a talented writer, dedicated mother, and a dear friend. I met her years ago from the SCBWI board for potential critique partners. We wound up living in the same town, with children of a similar age. One of the first things she told me was that I should know she had cancer. At the time, I didn’t know what it meant. Was she still getting treatment? Would it mean she might have periods when she wouldn’t be able to critique? Was she letting me off the hook in case I didn’t want to deal with it? Or was it just a fact she wanted to share?

Of course, I still agreed to share pages. Our manuscript exchange turned into a friendship.

Selena is an amazing person. She does more than me, often overtaxing herself. The more she took on, the more I mourned the shortening of her writing time until it disappeared. But now she’s back. She has a blog. And this post moved me, reminding me what a wonderful writer she is. Read the post NOW:

http://selena.calebscreek.com/?p=88

I recommend following her blog. She needs more people (especially writers) in her life nagging her to write. So join me.

We have to remind ourselves to appreciate what’s good, what’s working while we have it. It’s all about perspective.

* Post about Lisa:

http://theresamilstein.blogspot.com/2010/06/sad-news.html

Leap of Faith

"Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up."

- Thomas Edison

“At work, I wrestled with the piles of paper flooding my desk every day, an endless stream of manuscripts that would never be published.”

- Katherine Darling, former employee at a literary agency, now author of, Under the Table: Saucy Tales from Culinary School

The second quote is from page 2 – PAGE 2 – of Darling's book. And just in time for my official query season too. What does she know? The line after that is about how she hates her job. Ms. Darling also admits to doodling recipes in the margins of writers’ beloved manuscripts. She doesn’t even say she was an agent. And if she wasn’t an agent, maybe she didn’t see a pattern of two rejections, or three, before the writer had blossomed. The woman left her career to go to cooking school.

She’s not even talking about me, so why am I so defensive?

Because querying is hard. We put our hearts on a plate to serve to cannibals. Well, it’s not really that bad. (Mostly.) While the agents and editors who receive our query are NOT cannibals, (probably) our imagination runs wild the moment we hit “Send” or slip that envelope in the slot, or wrestle with the postal worker when he tries to pry it from our death grip.

It’s a leap of faith.

We think we’re ready. Did we revise it a trillion times? Show it to our most trusted family members? Share it with our beta readers? Receive scorn, I mean, advice from our critique members? Get showered with praise from our cat? Did we read the guidelines on the agent site? Did we read the types of books that agent represented to make sure we were a good fit? Did we put our query through the same scrutiny as our manuscript?

Even if the answer for each one is YES,

It’s not a guarantee of anything.

Check my inbox, I’m weary.

Check my mailbox, it's scary.

Get a rejection, I may be teary.

(Depends on the rejection. The day. The agent. The editor.)

All the next day, I walk around dreary.

But deep inside, I always hold out a little hope.

I’ll check my phone messages:

Maybe, just maybe… a call.

What would that feel like?

One time I got a little envelope. My own SASE came back to me. Who sent me a rejection this time? It was actually a request for a full. So not all letters are rejections. Some agents and editors just love snail mail, I guess.

Most of my requests for partials and fulls have come via e-mail. So when I see that agent’s name under “New Messages” I can help but have a little hope.

When the rejections have come after requests for partials and fulls, I deflate.

This time, I have a new manuscript.

I tell myself, this time will be different.

Even though I didn’t know it at the time, I had learning experience manuscripts. Then I had a manuscript that came at the wrong time. Now I hope I have the right manuscript.

What if I don’t?

How many times do I try?

Forever?

While I want to write forever, I don’t want to query forever. I haven’t been at this very long, but long enough to know:

Writing, editing, querying, submitting - each time…

IT’S DRAINING.

Reading this post made me smile:

http://www.guidetoliteraryagents.com/blog/The+5+Stages+Of+Querying.aspx

But then on Tuesday, I read another post. The author wrote the first idea - one sentence – thee years ago. Last year, in one month, she wrote the entire manuscript. Two months later she had an agent. Five months later, after an auction, she had a contract.

WOW.

I have no idea how long she toiled as a writer. I have no right to be jealous. It’s not a race. Her success doesn’t mean my failure.

I remind myself some people never query. They write, revise, but they don’t submit. Yay for me because I’ve been brave. Their fear doesn’t mean my success.

Every agent site says the recipe for success is talent, hard work, and persistence.

Here are inspirational posts out there from yesterday when I considered giving up (Are they clairvoyant?):

http://elanajohnson.blogspot.com/2010/07/querying-is-game.html

http://stiryourtea.blogspot.com/2010/07/lets-talk-about-my-stupid.html

http://virginnovelist.blogspot.com/2009/07/writing-is-all-about-hanging-on.html

Then there’s sobering news:

http://kidlit.com/2010/06/30/self-publishing/

I’m obviously having a crisis of confidence. My last post, which had an excerpt from The Disappearances was a nice ego boost. I try not to self-sabotage with every complimentary comment left by thinking, Of course they write nice things. What else are they going to say? Instead of just enjoying the words, I liken the praise to my daughter’s statement, “You’re the best mom.” OBVIOUSLY I’m not the best mom. (Want a list of reasons?) But then I remind myself, when I leave comments on people’s writing I’m being sincere. Even if I don’t love everything about a person’s piece, I write what I do like. Why can’t I be as easy on myself as I am with other writers?

Because I want to be published. I love writing for the sake of writing, but I also want other people to read my writing. It’s my goal to be a good writer at worst, a great writer at best. Responses from my query seem like the ultimate assessment as to my writing savvy.

Just because I’ve received rejections before, doesn’t mean it will be the same this time. Sending query submissions is like blowing on a dandelion and making a wish.

Writers, what is the query process like for you?

How do you keep the faith?

"I Can't Say It"

Time for another Blog Fest! (It’s short – I promise!)

This one is from Shelley Sly: http://storiesintheordinary.blogspot.com/

My entry is an excerpt from my YA fantasy The Disappearances, right after the scene from Adam’s perspective that I posted for another Blog Fest on May 12^th*. There’s also a previous post fromApril 2^nd that has an older version of the first couple of pages of the manuscript**.

Enjoy!

I shook my head as my brothers bickered about the distribution of wealth in the front seat of the car. Truthfully, I was glad for the distraction. Having Adam angry with me and not being sure how I felt about Brad made me anxious about going to school.

“Why don’t you guys give it a rest,” I complained.

“You know, Eve, you can jump in and have an opinion for once,” Alex snapped at me. “Instead of just judging others.”

“I have opinions! But I don’t want to be shouted down by you and Fidelix. You’re both impossible!”

“At least we know what we want from our lives. We know what we stand for. What do you stand for?” Alex sounded as harsh as he looked.

“Give her a break. She’s younger than us.” Fidelix smiled at me.

I scowled in return. “I’m not too young to have opinions.”

“Please share them,” Alex said, as he reclined and leaned against the window with his hands behind his head, like he had all the time in the world.

I realized we were parked at the school. There were two choices, split without saying something or staying and arguing. I glanced at Fidelix for a way out, but he waited to hear from me too.

“So, what do you think about all of the McDonalds disappearing?” Alex leaned toward me with a serious face.

They never took me seriously. “I, I think it’s a message, but I’m not sure who it’s from or why, exactly.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “That’s a lot to go on.”

Fidelix turned to Alex. “Give her a chance. You’re always jumping down her throat.”

“Because she has nothing to say.”

“That’s not fair.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I’ve seen things. I know things.”

Both boys perked up. “What do you know?” Fidelix said.

I hesitated. “Adam and I have been investigating. At first, it was his idea. We were about to make a breakthrough, but….”

“But what?” they asked in unison.

“But... now he’s not speaking to me.” I was surprised about how upset I sounded.

“What kind of breakthrough?” Alex asked. “What happened between you and Adam?” Fidelix asked at the same time.

“I can’t explain. I shouldn’t say. Forget it.” I fumbled for my backpack and rushed out of the car, without looking back.

Here are the other entrants if you want to check them out:

1. Shelley Sly

2. S.E. Sinkhorn

3. Marsha Sigman

4. Guinevere (This Is Not My Day Job)

5. T.J. Carson

6. E. Elle

7. J Leigh Bailey

8. Tessa

9. Nicole Murray

10. Stephanie McGee

11. Theresa Milstein

12. Nicole Murray

13. February Grace

14. Donna Hole

15. Olivia Herrell

16. L' Aussie Denise

17. Writers Block NZ

18. Dawn Embers

19. Izzy G.

20. Erin Kane Spock

21. Angela A

22. L. Hild

*Excerpt from Adam’s perspective:

http://theresamilstein.blogspot.com/2010/05/internal-conflict-blog-fest.html

** The beginning of The Disappearances (earlier version):

http://theresamilstein.blogspot.com/2010/04/dreaded-edit.html

Ensconced in Books

“If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.”

- Oscar Wilde

This may the longest I’ve gone without a post.

One excuse is I was away visiting family and friends. Another is I had an idea for a post and needed to download photos, but I didn’t bring the cord to New York so they were stuck on the camera. Seeing a specific family member tempted me to write maudlin posts, revealing way too much, so a break seemed in order.

I have a backlog of about five post ideas, one from the Dublin-Paris trip and the others from sub jobs I have yet to write about, but I don’t feel like writing those. The present gives so much inspiration; I find it hard to go back. Does that happen to you?

Another excuse is because I’ve been spending the last week doing more reading than usual. And in the last month or two I’ve been reading A LOT. Reading and thinking about how the books are written. Reading in all sorts of genres.

This is my booklist since May:

Nonfiction:

- Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott (Because of every writer seems to recommend it)

- Page after Page by Heather Sellers (Because Jane Friedman: http://blog.writersdigest.com/norules/ recommended it. But I cheated, since I didn't do any of the writing exercises)

Middle Grade:

- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling (Because I tried to get my husband to read it, and reminiscing about it make me feel like reading it again.)

- Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Because why stop at 1? J.K. Rowling sure uses “was” a lot. And those adverbs…)

- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Because apparently I’m addicted. I’ve read these all before, and there are so many books to read, so what am I doing?)

- girl coming in for a landing: a novel in poems by April Halprin Wayland (Because someone in my new critique group wrote a manuscript in verse, so I had to check a few out to see what they were like.)

Middle Grade – Audio Book:

- Because of Winn Dixie by Kate DiCamillo (For my daughter to listen to on the way home. I had used it for a reading group in the fifth-grade, and thought it was layered and lovely.)

YA:

- Hush, Hush by Becca Fizpatrick (Because it was recommended widely around the blogosphere.)

- Tantalized by Cynthia Leitich Smith (Because she spoke at the NESCBWI conference and it sounded interesting.)

- Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater (Because everyone recommended this one too.)

- The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (Because my son loved it.)

Now I’m reading:

Memoir:

- Under the Table: Saucy Tales from Culinary School by Katherine Darling (Because books about food are tempting. And I have a gift certificate to take 6 classes at the Cambridge School of Culinary arts that I got for my Big Birthday, which I’m excited to use.)

Nonfiction:

Secret Lives of Great Authors by Robert Schnankenberg (Because it's fun to read about authors whose angst and appetites make mine amateurish in comparison.)

Middle Grade - Audio Book:

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (Because we needed something to listen to on the way to New York because Connecticut and New York radio stations rarely play any current rock or alternative music that’s current. I can only listen to AC/DC, Billy Joel, and Rush so many times. We’ll probably listen to the rest on the way to Maine in a couple of weeks. It’s 7 ½ hours.)

What’s next from my book pile?

Middle Grade:

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Because why not just reread the whole series at this point? Besides, this video makes me less sad about what happens at the end of the book:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZwM3GvaTRM

Thanks, http://suzettesaxton.blogspot.com/2010/06/ultimate-anti-bella.html

YA:

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins (2nd in series. Because I hear it ends in a cliffhanger, and book 3 is about to come out.)

I just realized adult fiction seems to be missing from my list. Since I concentrate on YA, reading YA makes sense. And I seem to be a sucker for memoir of the culinary sort. On top of that, I’ll read any nonfiction by Malcolm Gladwell. It’s a pity he can’t write faster.

Aubrie (http://authoraubrie.blogspot.com/) gave me a great award she made herself, but I had to promise to list five books I love. Usually I can’t accept awards because I don’t use my blog to list seven things about myself (or any of the other things one has to write to accept awards). And I don’t pass them on because I’m a terrible blogger + I don’t want to use my blog in that way. But since I decided to write a book post, it’s fitting.

My Favorite Books:

Harry Potter Series (I know, SHOCKING.)

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (Deals with so much in one book.)

Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler (Taught me about love.)

The Lorax by Dr. Seuss (Gave me a passion for the environment beginning in first-grade. If/when I get The Disappearances published I will probably have to dedicate the book to him.)

Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger (Love his voice and angst.)

Fantasy and Sci Fi writers, I’m passing this award on to you. Just list your five favorite books and this award is yours.

What genre(s) do you gravitate towards?

What are you reading now?

What book(s) do you recommend?

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY, AMERICANS!

Wide Open

“In time it could’ve been so much more

The time is precious I know

In time it could’ve been so much more

The time has nothing to show”

- Craig, M.; Moss, Jon; Hay, Roy; O’Dowd, George. “Time (Clock of the Heart)” Culture Club

School ended last Wednesday. (sigh of relief.) I hit the ground sprinting. As soon as I got home, I straightened the house (shoving a not-so-small pile of papers into my room, on top of my “clean” pile of laundry on the floor), ordered the children to clean up clutter, vacuum, and mop. And then I prepared a nice dinner for company.

Two of my children's friends slept over, so the next day, I fed them all breakfast. Thursday was spent reading for and meeting with the brand new critique group. Then I took my children to their Taekwondo classes.

I spent Friday washing, drying, folding and putting away laundry, and packing for our trip to New York to visit family. I even cleaned up the pile of papers in my room. I’m officially caught up on the house since the wedding a few weeks ago.

When I visit Long Island, very few days are open. On Saturday, my children and me visited a friend and her children, and my cousin came over afterwards. Sunday was my nephew’s Bar Mitzvah. Monday morning my daughter began daily swimming lessons at the beach (don’t cry for me). In the afternoon, my poor husband left for home so he could go back to work. Yesterday was actually a down day with few obligations. This afternoon and evening I spent time with my mother. There are also plans with family and friends the next two days. Then my daughter and I head home.

My son is staying for another week with his grandparents. And my daughter just decided she wants to take a week of soccer camp. When I looked online, I realized (drum roll please…)

The soccer camp is NEXT WEEK.

This means I have NO CHILDREN next week!

What to do with my time?

The obvious: WRITE.

What to write?

I have the rough draft of Naked Eye waiting to move beyond chapter two. And I have to thank Lydia Kang who is a writer and part-time doctor: http://lydiakang.blogspot.com/. I asked her a question for “Medical Mondays” to do with this WIP. Her quick e-mail response means I can move ahead to chapter three. Thanks, Lydia!

My critique group sent me comments for chapter one of The Disappearances. While I may not incorporate a drastic change in the very beginning, I found other suggestions helpful. While I’ve incorporated feedback from one member, I haven’t worked on the other two women’s comments. I’m excited to query this soon(ish).

This story tackles environmental consequences, in an unpreachy manner. It also has a pair of best friends, one with unrequited love, and a love triangle (or two), so it should be appealing to teens. My protagonist has to find her voice and figure out what’s most important to her. Oh, and some pretty scary stuff happens too. Best of all, NO vampires.

My beta-reader, Aubrie just finished reading Aura. That manuscript has had more eyes on it than any of my other manuscripts. People seem to connect with and like it. And I’ve gotten the best feedback on this from agents and editors than anything I’ve previously written. The problem is… well… vampires. Even if she’s the vampire who doesn’t get bitten by a boy, so she’s not a victim and has a strong voice, the market is saturated with vampire stories. My recent rejection from an agent I admire:

“I'm really full to the brim with Vampires and other beasties…”

While I haven’t combed the world with queries, I don’t know how much harder I should bother trying. So I’m thinking of setting up a second blog and serializing it for fun.

Would you read it?

Of course, there’s the thorny problem of my job search. Not working full-time so long after my certification is hurting me. The economy is hurting me. Blah, blah, blah. It all feels like excuses, no matter how many examples I heap on top of my pile. So my time also must be spent figuring out a next step. At this point, I may need to call someone like a Dean to find out what would make me more marketable.

I have weeks stretching out ahead of me. But I also have a couple of family trips, visitors, and an out-of-state wedding. Somehow, the time is always snatched away before I’m ready. I already feel like I haven’t accomplished enough. Instead of relaxing, I’m: Barking. Snapping. Plotting. Fretting. Dreading.

I have one week, from 9:30 am until 2:30 pm. It’s like a gift. I want to use it well.

Teachers, how do you fill your summer?

Teacher-writers, how do you best utilize this time?

Writers, how do you budget your time?

“Oh, time is on my side, yes it is

Time is on my side, yes it is.”

- Ragovoy, Jerry. “Time Is on My Side” The Rolling Stones