What does it take to write a book? (Part 1)

I know this blog has been pretty bare lately. That's because I spent the last nine months (and change) researching and writing a history reference book. I was given a rather broad subject—a period of 35 years—and so I spent a lot of nights and weekends reading history books, biographies, economic histories, and other materials. (My next post will go into that in more detail.) As a result, I did not spend any time cleaning my office. So one thing it takes to write a book is to let entropy take over your office, like this:




Note: I'm not the only one in our house who was reading books for fun, and not the only one who couldn't manage to put them away properly.

All the boxes contain small knitting or crochet projects I was working on as a fundraiser for the humane society. When they decided they didn't have room to house our crafts, our store shut down and my projects remained "in progress" in my office rather than put away in my craft room.

Don't ask for a picture showing the entropy in my craft room. Some things are just too embarrassing to blog about.

...aaand here's the real disaster area: my desk. More craft materials, spare books I meant to read, printer cartridges and other supplies, individual papers with notes I need to remember, stacks of feedback from my critique group I'd been ignoring for the past six months....

It took me a good three days (lazy days, at least) to get a handle on this mess. After boxing and storing and organizing and cleaning and hauling things away, this is what I ended up with:







Books stacked neatly! In single layers! (Except for series, a clever space-saving strategy!) Organized! Old ones donated!

Look! My desk is made of wood! Who knew!

But now that the desk is clean, I have to get back to work. I have to try to reduce the stack of feedback I can no longer ignore and tackle the mammoth job of rewriting my novel.

....Unless ... yes ... my craft room needs cleaning! Be back in another week!

I'm a lying liar who lies...

That's right. Last month I promised I wouldn't neglect this blog so much. After all, I was close to finishing a deadline, the next deadline wasn't until July, and I'd managed to finish my portfolio for my taekwondo black belt testing (that involved scrapbooking three years of photos and events, no minor feat). Then I looked at the calendar. That deadline in July means I have three weeks each to complete four chapters, each of which involves around 5000 words of writing and reading a few more books for research. My TKD testing is in the beginning of June, and I haven't finished making the costumes for my skit. It's spring, and I had to plant 200 annuals in my garden. (Well, I didn't have to, but it would have been a waste of the four flats of flowers I bought from the annual marching band sale if I hadn't.) So although I have watched another Austen-inspired movie,  read three "sequels," and have a growing stack of college brochures to mock, I have not managed to find the time to blog about any of them. And I probably won't, until I make it through my testing in two weeks. So June, I promise, I'll be more faithful.

Assuming I'm not lying again. :p

I'm not ignoring you...

... I've just been very very busy. Deadlines for my history project are pressing and I'm being squeezed trying to keep up. Lately, my typical day is: get up, work on my book most of the day, take care of dinner, and then, if I'm not going to an evening rehearsal or meeting, read research books at night. I try to squeeze in some exercise here and there, as well as my regular teaching, volunteer, and household obligations. The time I would usually spend writing a blog entry—sitting in front of the TV at night—I'm catching up on the books I need to review to write the next day's section. So although I've read/watched a couple of Emmas, and there's a huge stack of Boy's college letters I'd like to plow through, and there may even be pictures from some cookies I made last month (or was it February?), I just haven't found the time to sit and write for fun. Next week, I promise.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!

To get this title of this post, you have to picture me running around, my hands in the air, hair spontaneously combusting from all the work my brain gears are doing, and that will also give you an idea why my blog postings have been so infrequent over the past few weeks.

It's been my "vacation" time, you see. I finished my last assignment on July 8, writing furiously to the end, and then scheduled some "down time" before my next assignment was due (Sept. 3). That way I could devote my full attention to an upcoming conference and sending out some submissions to agents/editors, yadda yadda yadda. I would have six glorious weeks without worrying about due dates! And this is how I have spent them:

July 12-16: Catch up on at least two months' of updates for the website I administer; correspond with all my relatives to plan our camping menus; shop, do laundry, pack, and otherwise prepare for camp. Write a couple of blog entries to post the week I'm gone.

July 17-23: Go to camp up north! It's awesome, I have fun, I hike and bike and read and sleep and cook and eat and swim and hang out with my family. I do nothing remotely resembling work, because I have no internet access anyway. I promise I will get the recipes everybody liked and post them on my blog. Some day.

July 24-28: A couple of days to recover from camp—catch up on laundry, shopping, mail—and then a couple of days to prepare for the SCBWI conference. This involves double-checking my travel plans, installing software on my new little netbook (I will be writing in a workshop), getting supplies and making wings for the costume ball I'll be attending, making sure everything is arranged for my absence, blah blah blah. I manage to write one blog entry to post while I'm gone, but I figure I'll post on some of the exciting things from the conference while I'm there.

July 29-August 3: spend a day traveling to LA for the conference, arrive late with just enough time to have dinner and shop for lunches. Have four straight days of keynotes and workshops and classes that run from 8:30 am to 5:30 pm, with an hour break for lunch if I'm lucky. Attend events or try to network or write my workshop homework during the evenings. Fall into bed exhausted with barely enough energy to check my e-mail—I'll blog the good stuff later. Then, instead of arriving home after the red-eye, spend 7 hours in Chicago's O'Hell airport when my connecting flight is cancelled.

August 4: sleep.

August 5-6: watch over Boy, who gets his wisdom teeth out, and make treats like his favorite soup and pudding. Finish up last homework for conference workshop and send to editor. Prepare application for local conference in October, hopefully in time to score breakout workshop I want. Stock up on mushy goodies for Boy to enjoy over the weekend.

August 7-8: go with neglected husband for weekend at Stratford Festival. Enjoy two plays and riverside gardens, but do no blogging.

August 9: Crap. Deadline to submit photo requests for September article. Realize I need to start working on it.

Today: Wonder, where did all my free time go? Did I actually get anything done over the last month, because my "to-do" list looks unchanged. Look for fire extinguisher for hair.

So I promise, over the next few weeks I will try to have some postings of great family recipes from camp, great things I learned at the conference, along with my usual features. Once I get my brain under control, that is.

My mean boss

I've just realized: my boss is a real slave driver. At the start of 2009 she decided I wasn't taking enough jobs, so she upped the frequency of my assignments. In 2008, I wrote approximately 21,000 words on assignment; in 2009, the number was closer to 55,000 words. She hasn't let up in 2010; the year's not halfway done and I'm already over 20,000 words. I had a week's vacation last July, and a couple of long weekends, but even during those breaks it seemed like I was corresponding about old assignments or thinking about upcoming ones. There has always been a deadline on my mind for the last 18 months, so I finally told her enough was enough! All work and no play make Diane something something! I need more than an hour snatched here and there to work on revising my latest novel (which was mostly written between 7 and 11 pm last November, or so it felt like) and sending queries out on the finished ones.

So after my current assignment, which is due July 8, I'm taking a break from the reference game. I'll have about six weeks before I need to start working on an assignment due in early September—not that I'll be slacking off. I'm hoping to get a big chunk of revising done before I go to LA in late July for the SCBWI summer conference, which I'm expecting to be five very intense days of workshopping, reworking, networking, and maybe a teensy bit of partying. Then I should be inspired to revise revise revise and market market market before I go back to biographies.

I'm just glad I convinced my boss to go along with the plan. That bitch is crazy sometimes.

Sorry, this blog is temporarily out of service...

... it is work? Lack of sleep? General brain fade? Gluttony? (After making this month's cookies, I am afraid I will consume them all and be unable to roll myself up to the computer. More details later.) Creative blahs? Changing seasons? Orneriness? Is that even a word? Are the cats holding me hostage for chicken? Is the Boy holding me hostage for car keys? Did I see something shiny and run after it?

Whatever it is, there's no brain power available to maintain the blog this week. See you with a new photo Monday.

I feel like Prom Queen!

... except with worse hair, no fancy dress, and a lot more stress. About a year ago I decided to up the amount of freelancing I was doing, so I reached out to contacts from my old employer and said, "Hey, I'm still here." I did a few pieces for a few people, and now I have more work than I can handle. I'm regularly booking myself between three to four months in advance. For 2010, January was devoted to pieces on children's authors (over 9000 words worth); February has been African American biography (it's not quite done, but it will total close to the same); March will be creative types appealing to teens (probably another 9000); April will be bios for middle schoolers (probably around 6-7000); and May will be more bios for high schoolers (7-8000 words). If I'm not careful, I'll forget to schedule time off for vacation this summer ... one of which will be a working vacation at a conference.

Besides this, I was asked to add duties at the animal shelter, so I've doubled my hours there; I'm working on important publicity for the marching band; and I'm still teaching TKD once a week. I've never been more popular! So how come my brain feels like it's dissolving? Anyway, that's my excuse for neglecting the blog ... but new Janespotting is coming, I finished another gothic novel and this one was fun, so keep an eye out later this week.

Helllllp!!!

How many of you can remember what they were doing exactly sixteen years ago? I can, because that's the day my baby Boy was born. I woke up at 1 am with labor pains, went to the hospital (in a mild snow storm) at 4 am, thrilled to the fun of back labor until around 1 pm, when the doctor suggested a C-section because the Boy's head was too large and in the wrong position. By then I was all, "just get it out of me" (we didn't know the sex ahead of time), and by 3 pm I had my baby in my arms and sutures across my belly.

I remember it like it was last week, but today Boy turns sixteen. I won't blather on about how I don't feel old enough to have a 16 year old (because that's silly, I do feel older), or how time flies, or all that stuff. But the milestone made me pause. Now that Boy is sixteen, the following things are true:

• He's old enough to get his driver's license and drive by himself. (Don't clutch your steering wheels, he still needs to pass his test first.)
• He's old enough to get married, with parental consent. (!)
• He's old enough to be out in public alone between 12 midnight and 6 am (according to state law, but not Mom's).
• He's old enough that he doesn't have to wear a seatbelt in the back seat of a car. (Again, state law, not mine.)
• He can legally ride in a camper that's being towed behind a truck.
• He can work in a hazardous agricultural tasks, such as operating a combine or handling blasting caps. (Better not let him know about that last one.)
• (Fingers in ears, lalalalalalala) he can legally engage in naughty business and receive family planning information.
• He cannot, however, get a tattoo or use a tanning salon's services without parental permission. (!)

Sigh. Blather blather blather old blather time flies blather blather thank God he's not 18 yet blather blather blather.

I was going to use this photo for the wordless definition of teenager or hungry but I think it's appropriate here:

I must be forgetting something...

... like, didn't I already write a blog entry this week? I didn't? Why does it feel like I have? Could it be I was thinking about what to write (Word Nerd Q, my favorite apocalyptic fiction, my oppressed left hand) and actually forgot to do the writing part?

I can't imagine how I overlooked it. Over the past week I've baked three cakes and one batch of cookies, quilted a twin-size quilt, played in a concert and practiced for another gig, wrapped presents, written the annual holiday letter (and addressed and stuffed 60 copies into envelopes), attended three parties, and hosted one of my own—all in addition to my usual duties teaching class, working at the shelter, and writing reference book entries. I'm sure I managed to fit a blog entry in there somewhere. Didn't I?

I didn't? I guess this craziness will have to do, then.

I've been Grinched!

And the Grinch didn't steal Christmas, he stole my heat! Now, I know it's supposed to be cold in Michigan in December. Even though this recent cold spell of temps in the teens (and wind chills in single digits) came on suddenly, I'm a native Michigander! I laugh at Southerners when they freak out at half an inch of snow! I snicker at Floridians shivering in 40-degree temps! Single digits is nothing!

I saw a lot of pissing and moaning on Facebook yesterday about all the cold and was getting ready to say, "Hey people! Don't be wimps! I dare you to think of the positive things about the cold weather!" I could think of plenty of positive things, of course: my cats become snugglier when it's cold; the garbage with old cat litter doesn't smell; I don't have to do any gardening, or hear neighbors mow their lawn at 8 am on a weekend morning.

That was just off the top of my head, and I'm sure I could think of more ... if my brain hadn't suddenly started freezing. Last night, although I had two quilts and two cats on top of me, I woke up in the middle of the night and noticed my feet were cold. Lately our furnace has been acting up a little, switching off unexpectedly, but we've always been able to restart it. Today? Not so much. I went to type "think positive," but my house is only 55 degrees, so my fingers wouldn't work. Instead, I say, Bah humbug! Go away, cold, and let me get some work done!

Luckily the heating guy is here and will hopefully uncover the problem and fix it soon ... if not, I'll be reduced to a shivering pile of blankets in front of the gas fireplace.

More lessons from NaNoWriMo

As you can see by the progress bar at the top of the page, I've officially reached the halfway point in my NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) goal of writing a 50,000 word novel. I've learned a few more things about writing during these first couple of weeks:

1. It really helps to have some quite "thinking" time before you get started writing. I've tried starting each day by taking my pretty journal book and making notes before I get started. It gets me set up for what I want to write, and gets me in the mood as well. It also invariably attracts the cat, since I sit in the front room which rarely gets used otherwise.
2. It is possible to write 2000 words a day and also work on assignments. It's a lot easier when the assignments are copyediting (ie fact-checking and review) instead of original writing, because it's two different types of thinking and it's a relief when I give up on the business articles and get back to my novel.
3. I'm loving my whole "encyclopedia article" structure, because I just make my list of words and write. Not having to think about plot (except during early morning thinking time) sure makes the writing a lot easier.
4. One can fit in writing while one is sitting outside watching kids practice the marching band show, or inside waiting for them to finally get ready for bed to turn lights out. It's not easy, but it is possible. One must avoid skipping ahead, though; although this is usually a great technique to avoid writer's block, if one is extremely busy one tends to forget to go back and fill in the holes.
5. One cannot fit in writing when one is sleep deprived. Actually, you might manage to fit it in, but you'll just end up staring at the screen as the cursor blinks hypnotically and your nose ends up typing "hjkjhkjhjkhjkhjkghjkhjkjhkh" when your head hits the keyboard.

I've gotten a bit behind my target of 2K a Day, but I'm close to the average of 1667 words a day, and hope to get further ahead as we get to the end of the month. I'm almost done with the "M" section (letter 13 of 26), but I figure "O" and "Q" will only be half-sections, so I'm still making progress. We'll see if I last with Thanksgiving coming up; I hear there are already pies to be eaten.

Confessions of a Marching Band Mom

Marching Band has taken over my life! At least, it will for the next few days:

• Tuesday: make sure I have all the supplies I need for our Nationals trip. This means trips to the bank (Boy needs cash!), the store (Boy needs socks!), and the vet (cats need daycare!), although since the weather's nice I can make the trip by bicycle and get my daily exercise, killing two birds with one stone. Then I have to do laundry and collect all the things I need to pack, in case I missed something and have to go back to the store. This evening, I have to drop off the boys' bedrolls for the truck, and deliver craft fair signs to people who've agreed to help put them out this weekend. Somewhere in there I have to fit in balancing the checkbook, getting some copyediting done, and not getting behind on NaNoWriMo, before I head to flute choir practice.
• Wednesday: deliver Boy and his luggage to school by 6:30 am. Do my own packing, get in one last TKD training session, maybe some writing work, gas up and wash the car, and meet the boys at school before driving down to Indianapolis in the evening. Arrive by 11 pm and get the cabin ready for 22 girls to arrive around midnight.
• Thursday: Get the girls up before 7 am. (Gack, but at least I'm not on breakfast duty today.) Ride with the kids to the practice field, hang out, maybe get some writing done?, hang out some more, help cook dinner, go back to camp and supervise cabin full of teenage girls.
• Friday: Oh God, why did I volunteer to do this? Up before 5:30 to help cook breakfast, then accompany kids to rehearsal, back to camp, and then out to Lucas Oil Stadium for preliminary competition. Watch most excellent show, maybe a couple others, then accompany kids to mall for the evening. A break! At a mall! Where 98 high school bands will probably be! (Imagine my exclamation points wilting here.) Back to camp and lights out.
• Saturday: More chaperoning, plus more competition—hopefully both semi-finals and Finals. Accompany band back to camp at 11 pm for pizza celebration. Lights out by 1 am if I'm lucky.
• Sunday: Leave camp early (7:30 or 8) to get back home in time to prepare for flute choir concert in the afternoon. Get home and crash. Hopefully, I'll have enough volunteers to put out signs so I won't have to place any myself today.

If you don't hear much from me on the blog this week, you'll understand why. I'm not sure I'll have internet access, let alone time to post. I'm with the band! At least, whatever part of my brain still working is.

This is only a test...

... had this been an actual blog post, you would have been notified by your emergency broadcast system. Or something like that. I know my posts have been few and far between over the last month, but I've been very busy. This year I've invoiced ten times more assignments than last year, and there was another deadline last week, so I was busy focusing on that rather than the blog.

I'm currently between assignments (November's hasn't arrived yet, although I'm already booked for December, January, and half of February), but there's something else taking up my writing time: NaNoWriMo! For those of you unfamiliar with this weird acronym, it stands for "National Novel Writing Month." The idea is that for everyone who ever thought, "Gee, I should write a novel," to take the month of November and scribble down a 50,000 word novel. (Which is very short for novel, but not so much for the kids/YA genre, which is what I'm working in.)

Now, I'm not one of those who has never finished a novel—I have two finished (and revised at least once or twice), and a third that is three-quarters written and all the way plotted. But I have found it difficult to find time for writing fiction, among all the extra assignments I've taken this year, so I see NaNoWriMo as a chance to get back in the fiction habit, as it were. If I were to write every day in November, I would need to write around 1733 words a day; since I know I'll have days when I can't write (chaperoning band nationals next week, and during Thanksgiving), I'm aiming for at least 2000 on the days I do write. So far I've got 3750 for the first two days, which isn't on target but is better than I thought I'd do since I played a concert on the 1st and I spent half of yesterday working on sign lists for the marching band craft fair.

So you can see I may not have as much time this month to write in the blog; NaNoWriMo is blatant permission for me to write meaningless blather, which mitigates the need for the blog. But I'll pop in with some posts here and there; keep posting weeking travel photos; and maybe occasionally write an actual blog post, even when I'm writing about not blogging, as I've done today. I will be reviving Janespotting soon, having checked out Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters (!) from the library, so look for that when I have a few spare minutes. But for now, I'm off to write a crappy novel! Wish me luck!

I'm not lazy, really...

... and I'm not ignoring the blog, either. I've just been so busy I've found it difficult to carve out the time to write something. Ideas have been sparse, too. I posted Word Nerd and quilting entries not too long ago, and my Remedial Lit Project has bogged down in the 800-plus pages of Anna Karenina. I've had to renew it three times (that's nine weeks, folks); not because I'm avoiding it—I'm actually enjoying it—but because I haven't had a lot of free time to read anything that's not a biography for a piece I'm writing. I've been spending lots of my time either working or chauffeuring, and those activities don't make good fodder for blogging. (Unless you want me to rant for two paragraphs about my nemesis the Tonda school traffic light, which invariably turns red on each of our six daily encounters.)

The only thing of any interest I've really done in the last couple of weeks is redo our front room. We're having a little (okay, not so little) litterbox issue, so I thought replacing the targeted sofas and carpet might help. I should have taken a "before" picture, but I didn't. You'll have to just extrapolate from this picture: blue carpet on the floor, and two light blue sofas (this one and a larger one) against the two walls. In addition to being a target for the cat, the sofas were over 10 years old and one had been broken by Boy when he was about six or seven, not being built to withstand a running jump onto its frame.

So we put the sofas out by the curb, at different times. One was scavenged, we think by the neighbor across the street despite our warning that it might have an odor issue (although we had removed the covers and washed the cushions with bleach); the other was consumed by the garbage truck (and wasn't that fun, watching it being broken in half in one big gollup). We moved all the furniture out, including my great-grandmother's antique (ie very HEAVY) piano, and ripped up the carpet and padding. Then TSU and I spent a day, plus any cartilege we might have left in our knees, putting in laminate flooring. It really was as easy to snap in as it looks in commercials, although getting the last row to click was a little tricky. The end result looked pretty good.

Next we headed out to Ikea, as it is close (ten minutes away) and their furniture is relatively inexpensive and in a style to our taste. They had a leather loveseat advertised for only $399, and on this visit it was actually in stock and looked like it might fit in my SUV if we left the lid ajar but tied down. (We took a tape measure and actually measured it, unlike the trio of coeds who spent five minutes in checkout before us trying to find the UPC on their mattress and then restack their cart, only to discover when they got out to their truck that it wasn't going to fit in the covered bed. I wonder if they finally figured out they could use the luggage rack on top; we didn't stick around to see.) We brought our prize home, followed the easiest Ikea assembly instructions ever (screw in four legs), and brought back in all the other furniture. And voila! We have a real room again, only now it looks light and open and organized. Now I just need to go remodel another room—the one where the evil cat will be confined until we figure out her problem. Sigh. It looks like it'll be a while before I find more free time for serious blogging.

The hamsters are loose again!

Remember that time when I talked about metaphors and the hamsters in my head? Well, this week the hamsters not only fell off the wheel that runs my brain, they started running around screaming, like they were on the Poseidon Adventure, looking for the exits in an upside-down cruise ship.

In one way, it's been a quiet week. TSU was out of town Monday through Wednesday, and Boy had marching band practice in the evenings, so I was home by myself for dinner, no arguing over the TV clicker. But today was also a crazy week: black belt workout on Tuesday, critique group on Wednesday, and a deadline for a piece quickly approaching. By Thursday, the hamsters had had enough. I was trying to figure out how to take Boy to pick up his sophomore schedule and get my weekly time volunteering at the shelter. I came home and realized I'd completely forgotten the vet appointment I set up for that morning ... and then I returned to my e-mail to discover that the deadline I thought was next Wednesday was actually this Wednesday, and my editor was politely asking when I thought I'd be finished with my assignment? I'd only just finished wading through the first 78 of 165 pages of electronic research on Wednesday, but I managed to work late yesterday and get most of the rest incorporated into the essay.

By now the hamsters wanted to collapse in a heap. But Boy informed me upon his return late last night that he was missing a class in his schedule, so he needed to return to the school and talk to the counselor, and TSU informed me I needed to get a cashier's check for our mortgage refinance that's happening tomorrow. At this point I think the hamsters started decomposing, judging from the nasty snarling that was all I could manage when Boy showed up late when I came to pick him up, but somehow I managed to get everything done. Now I can relax until Monday, when I start worrying about the next deadline.

So now I get to blow off steam on the blog, maybe revive the hamsters with a little mental sauna. My critique buddies were sharing some of the things they've heard at recent conferences, one of which was about an agent or editor who Googles anyone they're seriously thinking of working with; if she reads that person whining about the hard work of revision, she turns them down. If that should ever happen to me ... well, I can just hear the hamsters laughing about it right now.

I'm not a nun ...

... and so I'm not good with habits. This is my way of explaining why I've been slacking on the blog this week. Last week I went on vacation and had limited internet access. (Meaning I had to walk across camp and endure a slow network ... don't get me started on the glacial slowness of checking my mail via Yahoo instead of Outlook. In any case, I was on vacation and taking a break from all kinds of work except cooking.) Upon my return, I had yet another deadline staring me in the face, and so the blog took a backseat to writing a sports profile.

At least, that's my excuse. But really, it's because it doesn't take that long to get out of the habit of doing something. Inertia isn't just a principle of physics; it's a lifestyle. A body at rest tends to stay at rest, and so when I got back from vacation I didn't want to do anything I'd been doing before. I didn't want to go to TKD class, although once I got there I had fun. I didn't want to go into the basement and do my regular cycling, although once I got started I kept going for 45 minutes, distracted by a great book. And I didn't want to engage my brain and think of something to write in the blog.

But now I've met my deadline, forced myself to exercise, and written this entry. So now I have no excuse; besides, while contemplating what to write today I came up with two or three ideas, so it shouldn't be hard to keep going. Although it may be a few days before I review the second part of Faust; returning to a 19th-century German poetic drama requires overcoming a great deal of inertia.

Wordless definitions: Naptime

Awwwww, aren't they cute? I wish I had time for a nap, but I have a few details to manage before we leave for vacation on Saturday: review and invoice a job, do the laundry, get my haircut, donate blood, shop for supplies, pack for the trip, update the SCBWI website, leave instructions for the cat sitter, make sure Boy packs, clean out the fridge.... Good thing I'm going on vacation, I'll need it just to recover from the preparations. If I can manage, I may leave a few funny pictures to post automatically while I'm gone. If not, this blog may be quiet for a while. But I haven't really had any time off this year (one of the disadvantages of working from home, you're always at work) so keeping my faithful readers* entertained is not high on my priority list. So I'll be back in about ten days, hopefully with more pictures and stories to share.

*all six of you, half of whom will be at camp with me

Debating my inner voice-of-doubt

This afternoon I'm leaving to head up to the Michigan State AAU Qualifier Tournament in taekwondo. I'll be competing, coaching, and most likely judging. I'm trying to convince myself I don't have any reason to be nervous. It's a tough sell, though:

I'm going to have to spar, and I haven't won a match in competition in a while.
But you've been training much harder this year; you almost never feel like throwing up during Tournament Team workouts any more.
Still, I'm older and slower than a lot of the competitors; last year they made me spar a master (4th-degree) and she was probably ten years younger.
You're faster this year; you've dropped 15 pounds, so you go, girl!
Well, two years ago they combined weight classes and I ended up sparring someone forty pounds heavier, so I might have more of a mismatch this year.
No use worrying about your opponent, just do your best. What about forms competition?
I haven't exactly been spectacular at States the past two years.
You're doing a different form this time! Two golds in the last two tournaments!
I suppose I do look kinda cool doing that form.* I just have to control my breathing and focus.
That's the spirit! It'll be over before you know it.
But then I have to coach. What if I screw that up? Then it's not my performance at stake, it's someone else's.
You know what you're doing, you've been practicing for months, you know your teammates. You'll be fine.
I hope so. I still think I'm crazy, though.
You're challenging yourself! Eye of the Tiger and all that! Keep moving or die!
Um. Now I think I'm definitely crazy. But it'll all be over tomorrow night, so I think I'll get over it. Maybe. Kinda. Sorta. Or at least, until Nationals start at the end of June.

*Awesome photo by Steve Lutowsky at Shadowline Photography.

Stop the future, I want to get off!

This week, our family experienced every parent's worst nightmare a milestone: my son got his driver's permit. It was inevitable, I suppose; Boy's first word was "car," after all. By the time he was two he could point at nameplates and say Ford or Chevy or Chrysler. (We're not quite sure what accounts for the fascination; we're not auto buffs, so I suspect the genetic influence of my father.) Anyway, that little car fanatic is now fifteen, tall enough to see over the dashboard, and able to drive a motor vehicle with an adult riding shotgun. I even let him drive my car from the Secretary of State's parking lot ... right to the post office, where I mailed the payoff for that car. Maybe that was tempting fate, but he has to practice sometime, right? To my credit, I didn't clutch my seat in fear or stomp an imaginary brake pedal once.

I'm sure next summer, when I don't have to drive to school ten times a week because he can drive himself to band practice, I will appreciate the fact that Boy can drive a car. Right now, though, I'm seeing a steep, slippery slope headed downhill: he'll learn to drive, then he'll drive away, then he'll grow up, then he'll leave home. Without him to nag me, I'll talk to the cats all day long, forget how to interact with people, and my husband will send me to the funny farm, where Boy won't visit me because I'm so totally, over-the-top embarrassing, and he really didn't think I could be any worse than I am now. (Good thing he refuses to read this blog.) It's tragic, really.

But wait a minute. The SOS info says that Boy's new Level 1 license may be cancelled at any time. Hmmm. I've noticed Boy has been extra polite this week, with no complaining about chores. (He even cleaned up some cat barf!) He needs parental cooperation to obtain a Level 2 license, so this could really work to my advantage. He may only be home for another three or four years, but with the proper motivation, they can be the most cooperative and useful years of his life! {evil cackle}

I'm a mess, I confess

I have a new excuse for not writing a long entry in the blog today. Let's just say, I've been putting off care and pruning of my desk for some time:


You have to understand, the floor is not my fault. I had all that stuff neatly put away (okay, crammed on a bookshelf), and then my very helpful spousal unit decided to straighten up the bookshelf while I was away at a conference. I had so many assignments (paid and volunteer) waiting for me when I came back that I didn't have the spare weeks days hours to clean anything up. But I have a little free time now, so I'm gradually making progress against the mess. I'm sure by next week I'll be able to post a picture of my newly neatened workspace.