New Year's Eve Reading

Wow, it's been two weeks since I've visited my own blog. Eesh! I guess my first New Year's resolution is to blog more often. It's not like I've been that busy. Mostly reading and hanging out. Relaxing in general and enjoying family time over the holidays.

Tonight, for example, the only reason I'm awake as midnight approaches is because I've been reading "Catching Fire," the second book in Suzanne Collins' "Hunger Games" series. I finished it and now I'm dying to read the third and final book in the series, "Mockingjay."

I have four other books that I bought with gift certificates that I got for Christmas that are sitting on my nightstand waiting for me to start reading them. And, of course, I have my own book waiting for me to finish the last round of copyediting. Gotta get that thing finished so I can start looking for an agent.

I haven't cut much from it yet. I might just have to send out query letters and see what kind of response I get to my word count. Or go through and read it ONE MORE TIME after I finish this last round and cut some more. Isn't that what editors are for, though? Do they really expect you to have it in perfect condition before it's gone through a read by editors at a publishing house? Probably.

So, New Year's Resolution no. 2: Focus and finish reading my own book. It'll never get published if I never stop editing it!

It's Never a Good Sign When ...

... I get home late from work on a Friday night. My brain is mush from writing a breaking news story and rushing to finish another assignment. Of course, I didn't actually finish that second story, but at least I won't have much work to do when I go back to the office on Monday.

And here I am, after all that writing, updating my blog. And what do I plan to do when I'm done here? Work on my book.

I suppose I should have some stored up writing energy, because until today I had a relatively light work week. And after work most days this week, I read Sara Gruen's "Ape House" instead rather than edit my book. "Ape House" is due back at the library tomorrow, so I had a reading deadline to meet.

I'm on the hunt for something new to read -- the library had "The Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins and "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks" by Rebecca Skloot (which I need to read for my book club) the other day -- but I need to focus for a while on my book. I'm never going to get it in the shape it needs to be in to send it to agents if I don't finish editing the darn thing.

This weekend, I vow to work on my book and not start reading a new book.* Maybe I'll send my husband to the library to return "Ape House" for me ...

* Disclaimer: I do have a book or two that I've started reading and haven't finished yet.

Good Book; More Stalling

I finished reading "Friday Night Knitting Club" by Kate Jacobs last night. It was a good, quick read and something relatively light, which I've been looking for to counterbalance the tough biotech material I've been reading for work. It's also been a good excuse (OK, I admit, a feeble excuse) to avoid reading and continuing to cut down my own book.

I've been ridiculously tired lately, so by the time I've got my son in bed and have an hour or so before I absolutely must get myself in bed, I find myself falling asleep at my desk. By then, I'm reading the same paragraph over and over, because I keep nodding off mid-sentence and losing my place.

So, now it's the weekend and it's 9 p.m. on Saturday and I'm just sitting down to read and edit. And, my son will be ready for me to read him to sleep in about five minutes. He took a late nap and it's not a school night, so he's going to bed later than usual.

The good news is that my book is less than 300 pages now. And I'm about to cut another 10 pages or so as soon as I get done reading to Jack. There's a whole trip to Chicago that I decided to edit from the book. I'll save it in a separate file, of course, but it's time to listen to my proofreader's advice and cut the dead weight.

So, good night, sweet dreams and wish me luck -- luck that will help me stay focused on my book before I pick up something else from the library that I just have to read before I continue editing my own novel.

That Time of Year Again

The thing I hate about this time of year is the way that time seems to disappear into a black hole.

I love the period between Thanksgiving and New Year's because I get some time off from work and I get to spend more time with my family. But it all whizzes by in a blur and before you know it it's Jan. 2, because I spend all that time between the time spent with my family shopping, cleaning, wrapping presents, and working hard so that I can enjoy my time off of work.

That means I don't have much time to write anything other than what's required for my job and even when I do have some time to myself I'm too tired to expend the brain cells writing something for me.

This is all a long way, of course, of saying that I haven't worked on my book much lately. On the upside, one-third of the way through my latest reading I've cut 20 pages. I'd like to cut about 100 more pages to make it palatable for agents and editors. *Sigh*

... Back to work ...

Avoidance

Yes, I have been avoiding the blog. And writing in general, aside from work. Why? I'm not really sure. Fatigue from work, which has been stressful and jam-packed with lots of complicated writing. Avoiding the inevitable, because I have lots of cutting to do in my book. Definitely.

At this point, I've read my book so many times that I'm kind of bored with it. There are parts that are really fun to read over and over again. With other parts, I just want to get it over with already. What really scares me is that it's a sign -- and not a good one. Does it mean the book itself is boring? Or does it just mean that I'm bored?

I am kind of chomping at the bit to immerse myself in one of the other stories I've started. They've all been on hold for a while as I edit my finished book, but I'm ready to get back on track with my other works in progress. I've been daydreaming about the characters that I'm still just getting to know. I've had ideas for the book I put on hold indefinitely because the story was giving me a hard time. And I've had some really interesting ideas for the book that's not a book yet -- just five pages or so, so far.

I'm just ready to move on, I suppose. I've got all these other stories calling out to me and I'm looking for something new and good to read besides. I keep gravitating to books I've already read and enjoyed, because of one a few weeks ago that was really disappointing.

But ... my first book needs my attention. I should just finish editing it and then give myself a big reward, like working on something else or reading someone else's good book. ... OK, enough stalling. Back to work!

New Worlds

I spent the past week or so re-reading the "Mortal Instruments" series by Cassandra Clare -- "City of Bones," "City of Ashes" and "City of Glass." Fantasy is not normally my thing, but I liked "Harry Potter" and loved "Twilight," and the "Mortal Instruments" falls somewhere in between. It has a little bit of everything -- romance, drama, comedy, fantasy, horror.

Lately I've been a very visual reader, so it's fun to read these kinds of books, which I like to think of as literary candy -- a fun, guilty-pleasure kind of thing. While Clare's characters are very colorful and powerful, they're also relatable. I've been the wise-ass, eye-rolling, teen-aged girl (and still am to a degree) with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. But without a lot of endless descriptions, the writer makes it easy to picture the Shadowhunters, Downworlders and demons, as well as the Bone City, Alicante and even New York City. I found myself playing the movie version in my head while I read. I seem to be doing that a lot these days.

Not that I want to write fantasy or science fiction, but I wish my brain could create characters as colorful and vivid as those in Clare's books or J.K. Rowling's or Stephenie Meyer's. I don't see whole new worlds of characters and places in my imagination when I sit down to write. I see the people I've known and the experiences I've had and try to capture bits and pieces of those things in the stories that I create. But I think that's where every writer should start, with what you know, then adapt that to a different set of circumstances. Even Clare, Rowling and Meyer weave in themes that the rest of us can relate to -- love, acceptance, loyalty, understanding, belonging, conflict and resolution.

Then again, I think the people in my stories are pretty normal and relatable, but their thoughts, feelings and actions might seem quite foreign to some readers. It's all a matter of perspective, I guess. Hopefully, it will ring true with some people and shed light on a different perspective for other people.

* Sigh * More Editing

As I've studied up on literary agents for the past week or so, something has become painfully obvious: I have a lot more editing to do.

Going by pages, I thought I had it down to a nice, reasonable length: 315 pages, single-spaced, without starting new chapters on a fresh page.

Well, everybody wants manuscripts double-spaced, so my book would be 630 pages -- if an agent even asks to read my entire book based on my query letter -- and it appears that 100,000 words or less is an acceptable length.

My book is 180,000 words ... or so.

That means I need to cut more than 80,000 words -- almost half of my book. The good news and the bad news is that the last couple of times I've read it, I got to a point about two-thirds of the way into it where I thought, "Aha! I need to get here sooner!" That means there's a lot that could be cut. That also means there's a lot of work yet to do.

So much for being done and ready to publish. On to the next rough draft!

A Big Letdown

Most of the time that I was reading "Her Fearful Symmetry" by Audrey Niffenegger I enjoyed the novel. I began to care about the characters, with a few exceptions, and I was hopeful that by the end of the book they would redeem themselves in some way. Maybe they'd learn an important lesson, become free like they'd always wanted, fall in love and be loved back, learn to live by themselves -- the possibilities were endless.

It didn't have to be a happy ending, but this ending wasn't good for anybody. You're rooting for these people and then, at the end of the book, you're left feeling ... unresolved. You walk away with the sense that Niffenegger ran out of ideas so she just shrugged her shoulders and said, "Well, OK, this will have to do, I guess."

I don't think I've ever finished reading a book and been so cranky. Usually, I'm happy because I came to the end of a long, satisfying journey. This time I felt like my guide left me a mile before the end of a 10-mile tunnel then decided to turn back and let me find my own way out. I walked around the house in a cranky fog, folding laundry and getting ready for bed aimlessly, before I went to sleep.

But, maybe that's the dilemma for a lot of writers. Maybe the end pleased Niffenegger (thought I don't know how) and that's all she was concerned about. Maybe she didn't think about the readers. She knew that by the time she got to page 360 in the 400-page book that she'd gotten us so interested that we were going to read all the way to the end, so what did she care if we didn't like what she did with the rest of the book? Some writers write to make themselves happy and others want to please their readers. Hopefully, you can do both.

Done!

315 pages. Single spaced. That's how long my book is now that it's done. Or, at least, I'm done reading it.

Of course, I say that it's done, but that doesn't mean I won't start reading it again soon or decide to do a little more cutting. There is a point about two-thirds through where I feel like, "Aha! I need to bring people here earlier!" But then I go back and try to find things to cut and I feel like everything leading up to that point is essential to the rest of the story. That doesn't meant I won't change my mind ...

So, now I'm reading all about agents and query letters. I wish I could go back to the fun part -- the writing. But if I want to sell this thing, I've got to do some not-so-fun stuff too. It's intimidating, but it's worth a shot, right?

A Good Excuse This Time

Well, it's been almost a week again since I posted anything here again, but this time I have a really, really good excuse. No, the dog (which I don't have) didn't eat my homework. I was in the hospital.

I went to the emergency room on Sunday morning with severe abdominal cramps and another issue that I won't go into detail with here. The ER doctor suspected that I had colitis and a catscan seemed to confirm her suspicions. Several hours later, I was admitted to the hospital so they could observe me and make me drink four liters of something called "Go Lytely" in preparation for a colonoscopy the next morning.

The gastrointestinal doctor determined on Monday that I had ischemia in my colon. I wasn't in pain anymore by then, but he wanted to get an ultrasound of the veins between my chest and belly to make sure a blood clot didn't cause the ischemia. After another overnight stay in the hospital followed by an early morning ultrasound then lots of waiting for a cardiologist to read the report and look at the ultrasound video, I found out there was no blood clot. The gastrointestinal doctor believes that a new medication I started last week caused the ischemia.

I came home last night and slept very well in my own bed with no one coming in to check my blood pressure, to draw blood or to wake me up just to see if I was sleeping. Including the birth of my son four years ago, this was my second stay in the hospital. I can say with complete confidence that I don't ever want to stay in the hospital again. Unless maybe I'm having another baby, but I don't anticipate that anytime soon.

And after a lot of waiting around for people to perform a procedure or tell me the results of said procedure, I believe that the biggest problem with health care is not the lack of insurance coverage for a big number of people. It's the lack of money to hire enough medical personnel. If there were more nurses and doctors treating patients -- and reliable technology to facilitate their work -- then it wouldn't take so long to assess, diagnose and treat patients. My stay in the hospital should've required only one night in the hospital, not two. It would've cost all of us a lot less time and money.

But the best piece of news out of all of this is that I probably will be fine and have no major problems related to this as long as I avoid that particular medication. I do have to eat a low sodium diet for a while, but even though I love salt, I can handle it. I'd rather not go through that pain again or spend another night in the hospital.

Weekly, Not Daily

When I started this blog, I intended to write something here daily. At this point, it's a weekly goal. It's not that I don't put as much value in the blog as I did when I started. It's just that my attention has been diverted elsewhere, mainly to my actual writing, not the writing about writing that I do here.

I'm halfway through the last read of my book. Still liking it, but itching to move on to something else. I've got other books with a few pages to 100-plus pages written that are waiting for me to finish them. But, I'd like to finish reading my first completed book and start sending queries to agents. Not that I expect to have a groundswell of interest in my book, but wouldn't it be awful if an agent asked to read the whole manuscript and I wasn't done reading and editing it yet?

So, here I am reading and reading and reading ... and ready to get going on other projects. That's why I've neglected my blog. I'll try to get back here more often. Stay tuned.

Still Good

Well, after a short break, I'm back reading my own book again. Sixty-two pages in to my fifth or sixth read -- I've lost track -- and I still like it. I'm not sick of the characters (I love them, in fact) and the story still makes sense.

This last read is all about the flow of things. I'm not making a lot of corrections and no heavy edits. I'm trying to read it as if I were the average reader, picking the book up at the bookstore and giving the story a go.

I'm still tempted to redo the beginning, but after looking at it so many times at this point without coming up with a better intro, it must be OK, right? I'll keep thinking about it, but it still works for me, so we'll see.

Tonight I'm doing a little work that I couldn't finish at the office today, but I hope to wrap it up soon so I can read my book for a bit before going to bed. It's still all about fitting in a few minutes here and there when I can. Once I'm done, then I'll start sending queries to agents. Yikes! This little project's getting serious!

Taking a Break

My fingers are itching to open up my book so that I can give it one last read-through, but so far I'm resisting the urge. I'm trying to give myself about a week -- OK, at least five days -- off from the novel. I've learned that it's best if I give my mind a break and come back to the story with fresh eyes.

So, the last couple of nights I've been watching "Glee" (Who knew it was so good?) and reading "Best Friends Forever" by Jennifer Weiner (It's growing on me.) and dusting. My house has suffered from my writing. My bathroom, kitchen and floors are getting scrubbed less often and there's a very thick layer of dust covering most surfaces. Now, I don't dust very often just because I despise it so much, but it's been a while now, even for me.

It's going to be my birthday on Saturday, so I want to get the dusting done before then (not likely, admittedly) so I don't have to worry about it on my birthday weekend (yes, I get a whole weekend). Then again, I'm about due for some rest and relaxation, aren't I? Maybe I'll just read a good book. Maybe it'll be my own ...

55 Pages!

I've finished entering all of the corrections from my manuscript into my Microsoft Word document and I've cut a total of 55 pages. 55 pages! It feels like 55 lbs. (I wish.)

So, now I'm going to take a break from the book after essentially reading it through twice. I'll finish reading a book I started a while ago and put on hold to edit my book and read two others that stole my attention away.

Yesterday, I finished reading "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. I loved, loved, loved it, maybe even more than I loved "Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen. If you haven't read Guernsey, go out and buy it now. I thought the format written as letters between several people would annoy me, but it was a really interesting way to tell a story about World War II without making it a manly war story or a sappy love story. It made me laugh and cry and want to become a member of the Society, just so I could be around the characters in that book.

Before that, I read "One Day" by David Nicholls. I also loved that book, not as much as Guernsey, but it was a good book. They both, Guernsey especially, were easy reads. That's important when you're like me and frequently interrupted by a 4-year-old and a husband with questions related to the 4-year-old.

I'll read through my book one more time before I write a cover letter and send it to some agents. But, before I do that, I'm going to finish reading "Best Friends Forever" by Jennifer Weiner. She's long been one of my favorite chick-lit writers, but her first few books were more interesting than her last few books. I've been distracted from finishing Best Friends a couple of times now, but I need to clear my head a bit before I read my book one more time, so I'll give Weiner's book one more shot.

It's funny how I've been so much happier reading since I've stopped watching TV. Nothing there holds my interest as much as a good book anymore.

Every Little Moment

I've been using every little moment I can to edit my book and now I'm up to page 264 with only 61 more pages to update with changes written in the margins of my manuscript. I've made some good revisions and cut 50 pages.

The key has been taking every 20 minutes, half hour or hour that I can squeeze in to sit at the computer and get some work done. I even managed a couple of two-hour blocks last night, this morning and this afternoon. It's been a pleasant exercise recently too, because I'm editing some of my favorite chapters.

Another key is knowing when to back away from the computer. It's easy to get so wrapped up in my writing and editing that I might miss a fun game with my son or take advantage of my husband's willingness to keep Jack entertained and fed. I try to keep my ears opened so I can get some milk for our son or find the toy that he's missing. It's one of the reasons my office is next to the living room and kitchen. And my door is always open, for better or for worse.

For the most part, this weekend has been a balanced one. I've worked on my writing, spent time with family and friends, played with my son and talked with my husband. I even managed to do four loads of laundry and clean my bathroom. It's been a great weekend all around.

Two-Thirds and More Than 10 Percent

I'm on page 220 out of what's now a 330-page book and I've cut 45 pages so far. That's more than 10 percent of my original manuscript that's now gone.

I'll admit, some of those 45 pages aren't lost forever, just cut and pasted in a separate document, just in case I see a need for them later on.

Still, it's been fun to fall in love with certain parts of the book again, kill the parts that aren't necessary and edit the rest like crazy. I'm looking forward to being able to read the story without stopping constantly to make corrections.

Editing Progress

Thanks to the flu last weekend, a cold this weekend and a wonderful husband who's done a great job of keeping our son entertained so I can rest, I've gotten a lot of editing done during the past week. I'm more than halfway through the manuscript and I've cut 34 pages.

There aren't many multi-page sections left to cut, but deleting a few paragraphs at a time an shortening others has meant that pages have disappeared pretty quickly. I'm resisting the urge to make edits beyond those marked in pencil on my printed manuscript, but I'm looking forward to going back and reading from the beginning to work on consistency and determine what else can or should be cut.

Last weekend, I finished reading "One Day" by David Nicholls, which I loved. This weekend I started reading Stieg Larsson's "The Girl Who Played With Fire." I liked the first book in his trilogy, "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo," but I don't have much patience right now for a book that takes a hundred pages or so to really convince me that I want to keep reading. I also have "Best Friends Forever" on my night stand, but it's not as good as Jennifer Weiner's other books. I like her first few books better than the last two I've read from her.

Now, off to bed (after I fold a load of laundry). I hope I sleep better tonight and feel better in the morning, so I can drag myself in to the office. Lots to do at my day job this week.

Nine Pages!

I'm excited about the growing number of pages that I've cut from my manuscript. I'm up to page 124 in the printed story and that puts me on page 115 in my edited document. More signs of progress!

Every now and then I make notes in the journal I carry in my purse about where I need to tighten things up when I read the edited version of the book. Of course, I'm editing of top of the handwritten notes in my manuscript as I type the fixes on the screen, so I'm cutting and tightening as I go anyway.

I can't wait to get to the end of this technical process so I can read the story again and smooth things out without making heavy edits (if that's even possible). I'm sure I'll never be 100 percent happy with it, but I'm hoping for at least 98 percent.

Editing

Since I finished proofreading my manuscript, I'm in the process of editing my Word document with the changes I made to the hard copy. This is the part of the process that's kind of boring, at least, so far. Of course, as I type in my edits and delete the things I cut, I can't help but fidget with what's left.

I'm proud to say that 63 pages into the manuscript I've cut four pages of length. That's without the whole pages that I crossed out a few more chapters into the book. I can't wait to see where I end up, but I plan to go back and read through it at least one more time with an eye on cutting even more.

But, tonight, with a pretty bad headache and exhaustion from a busy week at work -- and a long day of work and errands today -- I'm tempted to lie down on the couch and read for a while. I bought a novel today called "One Day" by David Nicholls that a friend recommended recently. Hmm ... decisions, decisions ... the couch does seem to be calling my name ...

Done Reading ... This Draft Anyway

Phew! I finally made it to the end of my book. Now I'm back in the Word document on my computer making many millions of changes and CUTTING whole sections.

I'm 16 pages in to the printed copy and I've already cut more than a page. Coming up in the next couple of chapters I've got whole pages that are going to go. It's kind of like cutting off my arm, but at least my book will weigh less in the end. It feels like progress.

Of course, no writing project is ever completely done, just done enough for other people to read it, you hope. But as I cut and make corrections and add new sentences that I wrote in the margins of my manuscript, it feels like I'm making the book stronger.

After I'm done entering these edits into my Word file, I'm going to read through the book again to make sure it's coherent after cutting and adding. Then I'll print it again and try to identify my next victim, I mean, reader.

So far, unless they've been reading my blog, my friends and family don't know that I'm writing a book, with the exception of my friend who read it and her husband. I'm not sure why it's such a secret, but I haven't been brave enough yet to talk about what I'm working on. They'll find out sooner or later, I suppose.

For now, it's just a hobby. But, who know? Maybe an agent will want to read it and maybe they'll think a publisher might want to buy it. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.

I'm Still Here

I haven't given up on my blog in favor of my book, but I have been so engrossed in reading and editing it that I haven't been writing here.

I'm about three quarters of the way through the manuscript. The only major problem at this point is that I got about two-thirds of the way in and thought, "Yes, this is some of the best stuff! I need to get to this point sooner!"

So, now I'm plowing through to the end so I can start at the beginning again and cut even more than I already have. I am so glad that I had a couple of months off from the story before I started this read-through so that I can look at it with fresh eyes. My plans now are in line with the concerns I had before I handed the manuscript off to a friend to read.

It's been fun to go back and get reacquainted with my characters. I'm laughing and crying in all the same places and thrilled that I still like it. What a relief!

Cutting

I thought it would be painful to cut big chunks out of my book, but having taken fours months or so off from it I can see what's good and what clearly needs to go.

I'm quite proud of myself actually. I've taken a paragraph out here and there and whole pages in one section. Still, the most effective cuts so far have probably come from shortening sentences. I don't know how I thought I could get away with some of the rambling sentences I used to describe the action and the scene in one long-winded breath.

It's all progress, progress, progress, though it is slow. I would like to read at a faster pace, but it's taking a while to get through the story with all of the editing that I'm doing along the way. But halfway through the book, I still like it. That's the best news of all.

I Haven't Forgotten

While I've been fully embroiled in reading my manuscript this week, that doesn't mean I've forgotten about my blog.

Well, OK, maybe I have a little bit, but it's been a tough week. One of those weeks where I come home from work and the last thing I want to do is write. I just want to bury myself in my book.

After four or five months off from, it's been fun to go back and get reacquainted with my characters. I'd forgotten how much fun they were to write. I'm finding that scenes that were funny or sad or sexy to me when I wrote them are still that way to me now ... for the most part.

The more I read, the more I find to cut or rewrite or tone down or play up. Today, I put a big X through almost an entire page. A whole page! For me, that's a lot. I've also run my pencil through two or three paragraphs, easily striking unnecessary dialogue or narrative. As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to have to do a second read-through before I make the changes in my computer document to cut whole passages that I left in earlier this week.

So, that's why I've been absent here, because I've been reading and editing. There's only so many hours in a day and I want to say at some point in the not-to-distant future that I'm done with this book. Sure, I wrote it all the way to a conclusion, but it's not done yet. It still needs lots of editing. But, I'm having fun!

Lots and Lots of Reading

I got back the manuscript for the first book I actually finished writing from a friend who was reading it for me. She's a trooper. She read it three times and gave me great feedback.

Now, it's my turn to read through it. I'm picking up lots of little mistakes and finding things that I want to cut. It's amazing the different perspective I have after a four month break from the story. I thought about it from time to time during that period, but I didn't look at it or try to fix anything.

I gave it to a friend who's not a writer, but reads a lot of books and who I thought would have good insights into plot and characters, and pick up on inconsistencies in the storytelling. She did a great job of finding things that didn't make sense and making suggestions on events and people that I might cut (it is harder to kill your own characters, after all).

I'm glad to have had a break from the book so that I can go back with a fresh pair of eyes. It is longer than I think I want it to be, so my friend's suggestions for cuts were just what I needed. Thirteen pages in, I've already cut four or five paragraphs in two different sections. I was going to try to read through it the first time without editing, but I can't help myself. I'm so excited!

A Matter of Perspective

I left work frustrated today, but I was giggling by the time I got home, not only because it's the weekend, but also because I saw a truck with "Shaggin' Waggin" painted on the back. The universe was trying to tell me, "OK, get a grip, it's not all that bad." And it wasn't that bad, just a minor annoyance, nothing new per se.

When I got home, I turned right around and left to do my weekly shopping at Target. I wanted to get it out of the way so I can hang out with my kid and my husband tomorrow. Jack was fine, sitting at the computer playing games on Nick Jr., but when I got back my baby had a fever of 102.2 degrees and he was asking for his mommy.

I'd planned to get laundry started after I ate dinner. Instead, I sat with him on the couch, checking out how hot he was, talking him into taking some Motrin, and trying to figure out what else I could do to make him feel better. Between his bright red face, blazing hot skin and the pitiful look on his face, my heart just melted.

But then he fell asleep on the couch an hour before bedtime, so we changed him into his pajamas, I sat in his bed and read books to him, then turned out the lights and laid down with him until he fell asleep holding my hand. I'm sad that he's not feeling well, but happy that my 4-year-old still just wants his mommy when he's sick.

The really sick thing about it is that at the same time I'm worrying about his fever, I'm thinking, "Woo Hoo! He's going to bed early tonight, which means more quiet writing time for me!" And we'll probably be home all weekend so that he can recover from whatever is ailing him, so I'll have that much more writing time. It feels so right, but yet, so, so wrong. That's mommy guilt for you.

Another New Story

The latest tally of books I'm working on: 4.

I know, I know, I need to focus or I'm never going to get any of them done.

The first project is abandoned until I feel inspired to continue the story. I got stuck and too frustrated to make progress, so it's on hold indefinitely.

The second project was humming right along until I started two more.

The third project is a chapter and a half handwritten in the journal I keep in my purse. I was going to type it up and keep the story going until ...

I started my fourth work-in-progress. I had about 27 pages written and then I decided to start over again. Now, I'm at the top of page 16 and the story flows better. I was giving too much background up front and it was getting boring. I decided that I needed to hurry up and get to the more interesting plot points and conflicts that I'm itching to write.

It's great to have all of these ideas going that I'm really excited about, but at the same time there is a certain amount of frustration that comes with that, because none of the projects are anywhere close to done. If only there were 36 hours in a day instead of 24 and I didn't have to work for a living, then maybe I'd be able to finish all of these stories. If only.

"I Want To" vs. "I Have To"

I want to spend more time with my husband and son. I want to write something for myself. I want more time to relax.

But, I have to work. I have to clean the house. I have to buy groceries.

Tonight, I have to do some writing for work, but I want to write for myself. Unfortunately, it's 9:39 p.m. and I'm too tired to do both. So, unless I get a second (or third) wind, I'll only be writing for work tonight. I want my weekends (and evenings) to be all about me and my family, but sometimes it doesn't work out that way.

There's never enough time or money to do everything I want to do -- or even everything I need to do -- but, of course, I try to squeeze in as much as I can. That's why I don't sleep much.

So, I'm glad I stopped by here tonight, but now I must say, "Goodbye," so that I can get some work done ... and maybe, if I'm lucky, a little bit of fun too.

How Did I Get Here?

Every now and then, I look around at my life and wonder, in the immortal words of the Talking Heads in the song "Once in a Lifetime" -- "How did I get here?"

Today I was dropping my son off at preschool -- rushing in and out in time to get back on the road and make it to work on time, just like the other mommies -- when I couldn't stop wondering how I fit in with these harried women. I have so many different images of myself in my head that sometimes the vision and the reality don't match up.

I often feel like I did in college when there was never enough time or money to do everything that I wanted or needed to do. I had to choose between watching TV or doing homework or between putting gas in the car or buying a shirt. I did both, but I charged the shirt. But now, I sit at my desk writing checks for my first and second mortgages and I wonder how on Earth I convinced not just one, but two companies, to lend me hundreds of thousands of dollars to buy anything. How did I get here?

On other days, I'm at the park with my son watching another mother with her child, feeling completely disconnected from the scene playing out in front of me, and then Jack yells, "Mommy, mommy, look!" That's when I think, "Wait, I'm just like her. Really?"

Of course, I have days when all the images I have of myself fit together perfectly. I get to be a mommy in the morning, a professional journalist all day, a wife and mommy in the evening, and sometimes I even get out without husband and child in tow so that I can be a friend and the kind of independent woman that I still feel like I am. I guess, even at 34 years old, I'm still reconciling all the parts of my multifaceted life.

A Long Way From Equal

There's nothing like checking out a book from the new release section at the library to make you speed-read your way through a good book.

On Tuesday, I picked up Kathryn Stockett's "The Help" from my local library. I only had seven days to read it and I couldn't renew it online. Fortunately, it was only 444 pages and not 600-plus like the last novel ("The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" by Stieg Larsson) that I read.

Also, fortunately for me, "The Help" was a fantastic book. It's set in Jackson, Mississippi in the 1960s, which really isn't that far from most towns in Alabama in the early 1980s. I was born in Mobile in 1976 and moved to Fairhope two years later. Both towns are as far south as you can get in Alabama without drowning in Mobile Bay along the Gulf Coast. My mom moved my brother and I from Fairhope to San Diego a few months before I turned 10 years old.

I haven't been back to Fairhope since my grandmother died in 2001, but I have a lot of very vivid memories about the time when I lived in Alabama and the times that I've visited my former hometown and my dad's house in Remlap, a rural town in northern Alabama near Birmingham.

Stockett's book brought a lot of those memories rushing back, from the stifling humidity to the miles and miles of cotton fields lining the highways to the big white plantation homes that stand as monuments to the way things used to be -- the good, the bad and the very, very ugly.

After acknowledging her family, friends and editors at the end of her book, Stockett goes on to explain her pride and shame about her life in Mississippi. My family didn't have a black maid, at least not in my lifetime, and we never talked about race. But you could feel the tension in the air, the tension that hovers over everyone and keeps people "separate but equal" even when they attend the same schools and work in the same buildings.

I don't believe there was a single black family in my Fairhope neighborhood called Rosa Acres. If there was, the children did not play with me and my friends. I vaguely remember a few black students in my elementary school classes, but I don't recall one of them spending the night at my house or coming to any of my birthday parties or joining my Girl Scout troop. Somehow I knew that we just didn't do that without anyone ever specifically telling me so.

To be fair, I probably met just as many bigots living in the Midwest and Southern California as I did in Alabama. Racist people are everywhere.

I'd like to think that we've come a long way since the time Stockett wrote about in her book, but I don't think we have. The same economic, geographic and class separations exist as in the past, but the lines are blurring slowly over time.

It takes a book like "The Help" to show us just how far we've come and how much farther we have to go. After all, black people have only been able to sit where they want on a city bus for about 55 years, but we had slavery in the United States for three centuries.

Another Exciting Friday Night

Before we had our son, my husband and I would've gone out for dinner and probably would've seen a movie on a Friday night, but now that's when I usually make my weekly run to Target for groceries, toilet paper and the like. Tonight, my husband tagged along with our son and I. And for a special treat, we ate dinner at a Chinese fast food restaurant. Normally, I'd pick something up for dinner on the way home.

Now it's 10 p.m. and I'm sitting in front of the computer in my sweats, eating a popsicle, checking e-mail and writing on my blog, after reading to my son and putting him in bed. My husband's watching nature shows on TV. We're both waiting for the dryer to stop spinning so we can fold the first load of laundry of the night and put the next load in the dryer. Parenthood sure makes for a glamorous life!

I readily admit that I miss being able to go out for dinner or see a movie whenever I want. Now, we have to gauge how likely it is that our 4-year-old will sit through dinner at a restaurant or else we have to line up a babysitter days in advance. Not that I'm complaining, just pointing out our current state of affairs. I'm actually looking forward to a trip to the Children's Museum in downtown San Diego tomorrow. It's one of my favorite places to hang out with my son.

While he's in bed and I have some peace and quiet, I thought I'd stop by here and say, "Hi." I could stay in front of the computer a little while longer and work on one of my writing projects, but I'm tired, so I think I might read while I wait to fold laundry.

I suppose that's one of the best things about having a kid. I now have so little access to the TV for something I might like to watch that I spend a lot more time reading. I have read some great books during the last couple of years.

Reading and More Reading ... and a Little Writing too

This weekend I finished reading Stieg Larsson's "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo." This book started out slow for me, but I stuck with it and plowed through the middle and some slow spots after that before racing through to the end.

At the library today, I picked up "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett. I was tempted to get Larsson's "The Girl Who Played with Fire," but I wanted to read something different. I'm also trying to resist temptation to reread Sara Gruen's "Water for Elephants," which I just read a few weeks ago but LOVED, LOVED, LOVED.

About a dozen pages in to "The Help" -- I'm on page 2 of the second chapter -- I like it already. I like the voice of the initial narrator, a black maid in 1960s Mississippi. From what I understand from the book jacket, Aibilene, another maid and a young college-educated white woman named Miss Skeeter are the main voices of the book. "The Help" was recommended to me by a friend and I've been wanting to read it for a while.

I'm on a bit of a reading binge that started even before I went on vacation. Even though my own stories are tickling my brain -- always when I'm at work or shopping or anywhere but sitting in front of my home computer -- my impulse to read has overpowered my need to write.

Then again, most of my reading during vacation happened on the flights to and from Iowa. Otherwise, when I had free time I was checking e-mail or writing a new story in my journal. Hand writing a book is a much slower process than typing at the computer, so I would've written more while I was on vacation, but I was being anti-social and hogging my hosts' computers enough without getting absorbed in writing a new story.

And then tonight, for the second night in a row, I made the mistake of drinking wine with dinner after a long day, so now I'm too sleepy to write. Sounds like a good enough excuse to read "The Help" instead of writing my own book, right?

Ahhh ... Vacation ... Just What I Needed

I took a longer-than-usual hiatus during the past two weeks, because I went on vacation. I haven't been out of San Diego (day trips to Los Angeles for work don't count) in two years.

My husband, son and I traveled to Iowa to visit my in-laws and my stepfather's side of the family. We were gone for 10 days and were busy during the week leading up to our vacation shopping, packing and washing clothes in preparation for our trip. All of the stress and anxiety of gearing up to get out of town was worth it for a much-needed break from work and our regular routine.

But while I took a break from my blog, I didn't take a break from reading or writing. I finished reading Stephenie Meyer's "The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner," a novella based on one of the newborn vampires who makes a very brief appearance in "Eclipse," Meyer's third book in the four-part "Twilight" series. It gave me a little insight into what was going on behind the scenes while Bella, Edward and Jacob focused on their love triangle and the vampire who was stalking Bella during "Eclipse." I'm sure a lot of writers would love the chance to go back and revisit characters who don't get a lot of play in their novels.

I also made it halfway through "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" by Stieg Larsson. After reading good things for a while about Larsson's recent novels, I was curious, so I picked up his first book. It was a long, slow start, but it got to a point where I had to know where the story was headed. About a third of the way in, the pace finally picked up. I'm more than halfway through now and anxious to get back to reading it tonight.

And while I didn't work during my vacation on the book for which I've written 106 double-spaced pages, I did start writing another story inspired by some of the scenery in Iowa. I've got a chapter and a half written in the journal I carry in my purse. I'm anxious to write more of that story (though I'm not looking forward to typing up my handwritten pages), but I'm also looking forward to getting back to the project I started a month or two ago. With a three-day weekend starting in just two days, I'm hoping to get a lot of writing in this weekend.

So, in addition to catching up with family in Iowa, holding my three new baby nephews, and finding lots of time to relax and hang out with my husband and son, I had a pretty fruitful vacation. I read some good books (and some OK magazines) and I wrote furiously in my journal whenever I had a chance. Life is good.

Ack! A Week!

How did this happen? It's been a week since I wrote anything on my blog. Well, I've got excuses ... I always do.

I finished reading "Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen last week. I loved, loved, loved ... looovvved this book. Really vivid characters and imagery without being overly descriptive. It is the kind of novel that makes you laugh out loud at the ridiculous circumstances that the wonderful main character finds himself in and keeps you riveted to find out how his story ends.

I looked at this book at Barnes & Noble a couple of times without buying it before I knew it was going to be made into a movie. I finally broke down and bought it once Robert Pattinson from the "Twilight" movies was cast in the lead role. I can't wait to see the movie. I can picture the circus scenes in rich jewel tones alongside gritty, dirty treatments depicting the rough life of down-and-out circus workers during the Depression years.

But the biggest issue taking up my time during the past week was my son's 4th birthday party, which we hosted at our house with my stepsister's family, since her son was born a year after Jack on the same day. The party was Sunday and it seemed like everyone had fun despite the heat and our crowded back yard, where space was even tighter than usual because of the gigantic jumpy that took up most of the space.

I can't believe my baby is four years old. It wasn't that long ago that I was complaining in this space that I couldn't get him potty trained. Now he's going to the bathroom, mostly on his own, and enrolled in preschool. Before you know it, he'll be in kindergarten then college. Everyone always tells you your children grow up fast, but you don't believe it until you experience it for yourself. It's a whirlwind, but we're enjoying every minute of it.

Trial and Error

I'm constantly telling my friends and relatives who are new parents: Parenting is all about trial and error. Whether you're testing bottles or feeding schedules or potty training strategies, you try something and if it doesn't work you try something else.

I had one of those defining parenting moments last night. My 4-year-old son said, "'Holy smokes' isn't a bad word, but 'Oh, shit' is." True words indeed. But what was my response? I laughed. Heartily. And so did my husband, by the way.

In retrospect, this probably would've been an opportune time to explain that it's never OK for him to say, "Oh, shit," no matter the context. But, it really was funny, the way he said it. And, he clearly understood that "shit" was a bad word.

My hope is that Miss Tracy, or whoever it was at school that explained this fact to him, taught him this lesson, not because he used the s-word, but because someone else did. I won't lie and say that I don't swear around my son, because sometimes the s-word does slip out, but I try to keep the cussing to a minimum in his presence.

The parenting lesson in this is that sometimes you get it right, sometimes you get it wrong and sometimes it's just so effing funny that you don't care (but you vow to keep a straight face next time).

Mondays

I don't know about rainy days, because here in Southern California we can use the rain, but Mondays always get me down.

Mondays mean back to waking at 4:30 a.m. to go to the gym, back to work, back to wrestling with complicated business stories then back home to the nightly grind of cooking dinner, feeding myself and my husband and kid, reading to my son before bed, packing my lunch and readying my clothes for the next day ... and somehow squeezing in a little writing before I collapse from exhaustion.

Today was no different, but here I sit attempting to type out a blog post before Jack gets out of his bath and he's ready for story time. As much as I love cuddling with him at night, it's one of those nights where I'll be itching to get back to my computer and keep working on my latest story.

All of this is the long way of saying the writing is still going well. It feels good. I need to go back and rework the last couple of paragraphs I ended with last night, but it's not a matter of major edits, just cleaning up a few last thoughts. At least some writing somewhere is going well!

Picking Up Where I Left Off

Five days after I took a break from writing to concentrate on reading for a little while, I got back to writing today and was able to pick up right where I left off.

This new story is coming to me so easily at this point I wonder if a) I should just give up on that other story that was so hard and frustrating for me to write, b) I should go back to that other story after a long break and try again or c) the story I'm writing must not be very good if it's not a big struggle.

I've read that for many writers each of their stories is a major struggle and every book is a torturous, but ultimately rewarding, experience. Then I read about writers who are extremely prolific, like Stephen King, who really don't struggle that much. The stories just come to them as they go, though they do read and rewrite several times once the major elements of the book are written.

The first book I completed wasn't the first book I started. It was the third. I gave up on the first one about 150 pages or so into it when the main character's voice wasn't ringing true. The second one is the one I went back to after finishing the third book and have once again put on hold to work on what is actually my fifth attempt at a book.

The fourth one I started is on hold, because I've had other stories I've chosen to focus on. I have the first chapter or two written and a detailed outline for the rest. It's semi-autobiographical, so it's much easier to picture the story and characters. It's a story I started based on a writing exercise in Writer's Digest and I want to see if I can finish it someday, but the fifth book is the story that's most interesting to me at the moment.

So, it's almost 10:30 on a Saturday night after I've been running around with my almost 4-year-old-son all day, so I better get back to working on book no. 5 before I start to fall asleep. Good night!

Time's Flying By

How did it get to be Wednesday already? And how has it been three days again since I wrote on my blog?

OK, I have excuses and some are pretty good. On Monday, I spent a couple of hours writing my latest story and then the rest of the day relaxing with my family for Memorial Day and my niece's 9th birthday.

Yesterday, I had a crazy Tuesday and decided to relax and console myself by reading "Eclipse" again. I've read it three or four times, I think. I've lost count. It's my favorite out of Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight" series. Also, the movie is coming out at the end of this month, so I want to read it again before I see the film. Yes, I know how pathetic that sounds. What's even more pathetic is that I'm listening to a sneak peek at the "Eclipse" soundtrack while I write this, but I digress.

So, tonight's dilemma is read me some more "Eclipse" or write. I'm at a good point in writing my story, but I'm also at a good part in reading Meyer's book. Hmm ... I'll feel guilty if I don't write, but my soul will feel good if I read. Decisions, decisions ...

Time with Family

The thing I love about three-day weekends is the extra time I get to spend with my family. That's the goal every weekend, but by the time I wash clothes, clean the bathroom, wipe the kitchen counters and run to Target and the grocery store, there isn't much time left for family.

We try to fit as much fun as we can in between chores and errands. During a marathon shopping trip yesterday, my son and I spent a good 45 minutes in Barnes & Noble reading books and playing with trains. I also stocked up on story, coloring and sticker books to keep him entertained when we fly to Iowa to visit my in-laws in late June.

After we ate lunch yesterday, we sat in the shopping center's outdoor amphitheater and listened to a blues band. Jack loves music. He was so riveted I had to push his hand to his mouth a couple of times to remind him to eat his chocolate chip cookie before it melted all over his hand. It didn't work. He still had chocolate all over his hands and face, but he also had a good time.

Today, we spent most of the morning and early afternoon at our friends' son's birthday party. Jack had a blast running around with friends he doesn't see often, riding a "big kid" bike and playing in the sand. After he and his dad had a nice long nap, during which I got to write for more than an hour without interruption (until I decided to go to the grocery store), we played outside this afternoon. While Jeff went for a run, Jack and I had a snack while he watched cartoons and I squeezed in another hour of almost uninterrupted writing.

We have another birthday party tomorrow afternoon, this time for my niece who's turning 9. (Nine! I can't believe it! Katie and our nephew, Orion, will be in the double digits next year.) We'll barbecue, swim in the pool and hang out at grandma and grandpa's house with our extended family. Those are the kinds of summer days I love. Life really is good.

Three Days!!!

Sometimes at night I think, "Oh, I just wrote on the blog last night or the other day. I can get by without writing there tonight." That's what I've thought the last couple of nights, apparently, because it's been three days since I've written anything here. So much for my vow to blog every day.

The good news is that while I haven't been faithful to my blog, I have been parking myself in front of the computer to work on my latest story.

But speaking of three days, I have the next three days off from work. Woo-hoo! So, I hope to write something here every day this weekend. As a matter of fact, I'm looking forward to it.

Third Chapter

I've been keeping it short here lately so that I can keep up the momentum on my latest writing project. I'm in the middle of the third chapter and counting.

It feels good to say I'm making relatively rapid progress, rather than struggling to write even one page. I've gone back and made a few revisions to the earlier pages here and there, but for the most part I'm trying to get the story written before the major themes disappear from my brain. I can always revise and rewrite later.

Once again, I have to say thank God for my supporting husband who picks up the slack and doesn't complain when our son is yelling, "Milk! Milk!" and I keep my butt firmly planted in the chair in front of my computer screen trying to finish a sentence or paragraph without completely breaking my concentration. And thank you to my "muse" or whatever it is that's helped me get this far in less than two weeks!

Good Weekend

I spent a great weekend with my son and husband. Between the park, library, shopping and the zoo, I even squeezed in some writing.

I'm not totally happy with my first chapter yet, but I made some revisions that leave me a little more comfortable with the beginning of my story. And I finished a second chapter that got a little shaky in the middle, but ended pretty well. I'm a few paragraphs into the third chapter and I'm feeling my way around the next direction of the story, but I feel pretty good about it, so far.

So, I'll keep writing tonight and see how much further along I can get in the story. Feels like progress!

Tiny Bits of Progress

Despite falling asleep sitting up in front of my computer last night, I managed to get at least one full page written. I consider that an accomplishment when I went to bed a half hour earlier than usual. Tonight, I'm hoping to write at least two and maybe four or five pages. Every little bit counts, right?

Quantity and Quality?

I haven't been writing much here the last few days, because I've been writing elsewhere. Since the story I'm working on seems to be flowing more smoothly than the one I've set aside, I've been trying to keep up the momentum by writing whenever I can.

While I'm being productive during the hour and a half I manage to squeeze in at night before I start falling asleep at my computer, I hope that what I'm getting on the page reads well. There is the possibility that I'm writing so fast things get lost in translation when they travel from my brain to my fingertips. And given the time of night, there's a pretty good chance that some things read better when I'm half asleep than they will when I'm wide awake.

I guess it's a matter of quality vs. quantity. But given the struggle I was having on my last project, where I kept going back to read and rewrite every little bit of scene or dialogue, it's a welcome relief to feel like the words are coming to me easily and in pretty decent shape the first time around without needing to make major revisions.

Of course, I may feel differently a few months from now when I finish this project and read the completed manuscript. But at this point, I look forward to having a completed manuscript, no matter what kind of shape it's in.

Busy, Productive Day

Before my son and I went to play at the park, get the oil changed, grab lunch and shop at the grocery store this morning, I finished the first chapter in my new project. I wrote 20 pages this week. Yay!

So far, the story is humming right along. The characters don't feel as forced as the ones in the other story that I put on hold. Their voices are crystal clear in my head. And every time I open the story, I don't feel like I need to go back to the beginning to rewrite what I typed up the last time I was in their world.

I can't decide if it's best for me to stick with what I know with characters and settings that I can relate to or to make up people in situations and locations that I know little to nothing about. On the one hand, it's easier to envision and describe things that I have some experience with. On the other hand, it's my book and I can make up whatever details I want.

This new story is somewhere in between. The first book I attempted to write and gave up on a quarter of the way through involved teenagers and I felt like I wasn't getting their voices right. It didn't sound authentic. The book I finished involves adults a few years younger than me. The one I've put on hold is dominated by a 23-year-old woman. This new one is about teenagers, but I don't feel the same kind of disconnect I did with the first story.

Only 20 pages in, it's too early to declare victory, but I feel pretty good so far. I'm actually looking forward to staying up late and working on this new story tonight. It doesn't feel like such a chore. That's a victory in itself.

Proud of Myself

I'm quite proud of myself this week. I've worked on my new story every night and I've produced 14 strong pages, so far.

While my son's in the bath and after I get him in bed, I plan to write more tonight, even if all I produce is one page. I made the mistake of having wine with dinner and now I'm very, very sleepy.

I'm glad I decided to change projects for a while, because this new one doesn't feel like such a struggle. I'm more confident about my main character's voice and I can see clearly where her story is headed. My vision is much more cloudy with the story I set aside.

So, now dinner is cooked and eaten, dishes are washed and my son's bedtime routine is in progress. All I have to do is make my lunch for work tomorrow and I can focus on my writing for a few minutes until Jack's finished his bath and I can settle in front of the computer until my bedtime. It's nice to feel relaxed while I'm writing again, rather than frustrated and tense.

Some People Never Learn

For the last two days at work I've been luxuriating in two stories for my newspaper without a deadline for either one. I've been tracking down my last few interviews and data points and taking my time writing the articles I plan to turn in tomorrow and Thursday. It's been a nice, easy pace for a daily newspaper reporter.

But guess what happened today? Breaking news that I need to respond to quickly.

I'll have to finish one of my stories in progress faster than I'd planned and put the other on hold so that I can pick up on this new news.

I learned a valuable lesson today, which I've learned before and still failed to heed it. I shouldn't take my time on these less timely features that I normally write, because something might come up at the last minute that is extremely timely and eat up all that extra time I had. Maybe this time the lesson will sink in.

Another Writing Hiatus

OK, I'm really serious this time. After a week-long hiatus, I am going to focus on writing again.

Unfortunately, I have decided to abandon the project I was working on in favor of a new idea. With the previous story, I could see the journey, but not the final destination. I was struggling to move forward on a discernible path, because I wasn't sure exactly where I was headed.

With this new idea, most of the steps along the way seem pretty clear to me. I can hear my main character's voice and it sounds truer than in the story that I'm abandoning -- or at least postponing temporarily. It feels like time to head out on a new trail and see where it takes me.

So, here I go again. Wish me luck.

Reading, Reading and More Reading ...

Haven't been writing much lately. Been reading mostly. On the third and final book in the Mortal Instruments series. Addicting stuff. Off to read to the boy, then read to me!

Music Theory

Normally, I have my radio set to one of the two "alternative rock" stations in San Diego, but lately I've been listening to a local pop station and I find myself gravitating to Taylor Swift and Kelly Clarkson maybe even more so than the White Stripes and Dead Weather.

I have a lot of excuses. For instance, I don't like the morning talk show that's invaded my favorite station or the idiotic DJs on the other alt rock station in town who have segments called "What's on the Internet" and "F**k that guy." Then again, I'm equally annoyed by the gossip and American Idol recaps on the pop station.

I have a theory about the real reason for my lighter musical tastes lately. I've been writing so many articles about tough subjects at work and then struggling with so many other every day pressures elsewhere in my life that it just feels good to get in the car and listen to Taylor Swift sing about being a 15-year-old in love for the first time.

Who doesn't feel better after singing along with Kelly Clarkson at their top of my lungs in the car with the windows rolled up so that nobody can hear you? I'll take that over drugs for a quick high any day. And I'll follow it up with a glass of wine at home when it's time to relax.

Story Idea Dilemma

Since I keep writing a few pages here and there for my most recent project and then giving up to read or work on something else, I keep wondering if I should put it off indefinitely and focus on other story ideas that keep springing to mind.

Part of me thinks that's a wise strategy until that story rings true again. It seems like it shouldn't be such a struggle to string sentences together. The other part of me feels guilty for even thinking about giving up. Sometimes that part of me feels small when I have other story ideas springing to mind.

Maybe as a writing exercise I'll try to work on a different story or pursue one of my new ideas, just to get the creative juices flowing. Otherwise, the story that I keep picking up and putting back down feels like tiny spurts of juice rather than a steady flow.

I know it can't feel like a smooth float down a lazy river all the time, but it would be nice to make my way down a raging river with lots of obstacles in the way instead of sitting in the middle of a dry creek bed like I am now.

Bad Headache

I have one of those headaches that makes me want to hide under the pillows of my bed and go to sleep, but I'm not quite tired enough to go to bed yet.

It's one of those headaches that feels like my temples are gripped in a vice while someone is jamming an ice pick into my eyes. Light makes it worse.

So, I made an effort to write something here, but that's it for tonight. Instead, now that my son is in bed and the house is quiet, I'm going to curl up on the couch with my book and read until it's time for bed. Fortunately, the publishers of "City of Ashes" printed the book in a very large font so I don't have to strain my eyes and make my headache worse.

Here's to hoping for a clear head tomorrow and great words to fill it, so that I can make progress on writing my own book.

A Brief Hiatus

Wow. It's been five days since I was on the blog.

At first, I was stewing from a bad day at work. But since Friday, I've been so wrapped up in family, chores and reading a new book that I've happily stayed away from the computer. I took my son to the zoo with a pair of friends yesterday. Today, Jack, my husband and I met another friend and her son for a picnic and play date. It's been a great weekend.

I've also been absorbed in reading "City of Bones" by Cassandra Clare. It's something written for the "Twilight" young adult audience. My sister-in-law gave me the three-book series for Christmas, since I liked Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight" series and I hadn't read it yet. I was reading "Almost Moon" by Alice Sebold, which is good, but slow moving and very sad, so I decided to see what I thought of "City of Bones."

I never thought fantasy fiction was for me. After all, I don't necessarily like those kinds of movies. Unlike most people, I have no interest whatsoever in seeing "Avatar," for instance. I read "Twilight" for the love story after seeing the movie and convinced myself that I was only into the books because of the romance between Bella and Edward. That's what I liked most about Meyer's "The Host," too -- how she dealt with the romantic entanglements of the story.

But now that I'm reading "City of Bones," maybe I do like fantasy, I just never tried it before. Or, maybe I'm just moving backwards in age, since the book is labeled "14 and up." But, the story is compelling and fast moving. There is a romantic element that appeals to me, I have to admit, but it is interesting to see how all of the fantastic pieces of the Shadowhunters fit together and make up a story. It's not the best writing in the world, but the story is interesting.

So, maybe when I finish reading, I can work on writing my own story again. Then again, there are two more books in the "Mortal Instruments" series ...

A Room of My Own

The smallest bedroom in my house, the closest to the kitchen and living room, was transformed into my new office a few months ago.

All that's left of what used to be my son's nursery is the white wainscoting and white area rug. The yellow walls and hand-stamped animal border was covered with tranquil light blue paint. The crib was replaced by a new light birch desk with accessories to help keep me organized. I mounted a shelf for mine and my husband's diplomas and hung my journalism awards and pictures from our old guest bedroom, which is now my son's bedroom.

I made the space into a peaceful haven in which I can feel comfortable writing. In the months since the transformation, my lovely little office has also become the home for my son's easel, to keep it out of the living room, and other random toys -- currently, a beach ball and kick ball.

And every time I sit at my desk, since it's so close to the kitchen and living room, someone comes in here to ask me a question. Or as soon as my husband gets off the couch to use the bathroom or get his book from our bedroom, my son starts calling for me. Or I get distracted by something I hear on the TV. Or I remember something from work that I need to tell my husband.

It's a miracle sometimes that I ever get any writing done at all, but I knew what would happen when I moved my computer closer to the rest of the action in the house. It's still a room of my own even if it has a door that I (gladly) rarely ever close.

Dialogue

One thing I always struggle with is dialogue. I hate using "he said" and "she said" over and over again, so I sprinkle a few other communicative verbs in, like nodded, shrugged, smiled and laughed. Sometimes I'll even use "he told me."

Somewhere, Stephen King is reading dialogue similar to mine and cringing. In "On Writing" he insists that writers should stick with "said," but I respectfully disagree, especially during longer sections of dialogue.

Which leads me to another issue that I struggle with, and that's how much is too much dialogue? Sure, people talk for hours when they're in love or working through a problem or catching up with friends or relatives they haven't seen in years, but it's not often that you see pages and pages of dialogue in novels. Conversations in prose are fairly short. In fact, some books leave me wishing that the characters would interact with each other more.

I suppose it comes down to a matter of the pacing of your story, how your characters carry out their tasks and expose the story through talk versus action. As with people in real life, some characters speak more than others. And as I write, or maybe as I go back and reread what I've written, it should be obvious to me whether more or less dialogue is needed. I hope.

Must ... Resist ... Temptation ...

One of the reasons that I'm not getting very far very fast on my current project is that I keep going back to reread and revise what I've written so far.

I keep trying to resist the temptation to look back, but I can't help myself. I've been turning different scenes or character descriptions or other details over and over in my head, so I feel the need to go back and sharpen things. Thus far, it's proven to be an unproductive strategy and it hasn't made me feel any better about what I've written.

I need to stop looking back and keep pushing forward or else the story is never going to be done. Although, at this point, the story has barely started -- all the more reason to keep making progress.

With the first book that I finished, I didn't go back and reread until I was 150 pages or so in. I wanted to make sure that I was keeping the story and characters consistent as I wrote. But this time around, the story is more complicated and I keep tweaking details that set up the storyline later in the book. But that should be what revisions are for, I suppose, fixing the mistakes I made in the beginning.

Still, I can't help feeling that I'm just stalling, because the story isn't going anywhere good. Even so, the only way to find out is to keep writing and see how far I can get. I'll have to resist the temptation to keep going back to the beginning until I get to the end.

Slowly But Surely

It may be painstakingly slow, but I am making progress on my latest project.

Every day for about five days in a row, I've sat down at my computer to proofread and re-write what I've typed up so far or write at least one new page before getting distracted by my husband or son or going to sleep for the night.

In "On Writing," Stephen King talks about having a room of your own to write in with a door that you can close to shut out what's going on in your house. Of course, he's a man whose only job is to write. And, let's face it, he's a man. That means that during the era when he had young children at home, he was not likely the one getting them milk, wiping their nose, getting them to the potty on time and generally keeping them entertained while cooking dinner at the same time.

Granted, when King wrote his first few books, he was a full-time teacher. So, like me, he worked all day. But, assuming his wife was the one taking care of his son's and daughter's needs most of the time, he probably had fewer distractions than I do at night. If he did help out with the kids more than I suspect and still managed to be as prolific I writer as he was, my hat's off to him.

In all fairness, I do have an understanding and supportive husband who probably does more than his fair share with our son so that I can write at night, but I still give in to mommy guilt and stop writing mid-sentence from time to time to get my son's milk or snack or find the flashlight that he's lost, yet again.

That's why I feel like I've gotten a lot accomplished if I get through 10 pages when I'm proofreading or produce a few new pages when I'm actually writing. As the characters sing on one of my son's favorite TV shows, "Yo Gabba Gabba," my project will get done in "baby steps, baby steps, little tiny baby steps."

Comic Relief

I got a press release from the Treasury Department today, on Earth Day, with the headline: "Treasury Harnesses the Power of Wind."

Who says economists aren't funny? I don't know if the writer of this press release realized all the different jokes that you could make out of that headline. If not, the other people who proofread and approve Treasury press releases don't have a good sense of humor either.

As I read it, sitting in my office chuckling by myself, I pictured a press room full of reporters at the Treasury Department giggling as they opened their e-mails at the same time and read the subject line. Maybe the Treasury Department's public information officers felt like it was time for some levity after the tough economic news and financial market regulations they've been talking about for the past year and a half. It wasn't an unpleasant way to start my morning.

But with a quick Yahoo! search the only reference I found to the silly headline was one blog that repeated the headline and said, "No joke." Oh well, I guess most finance reporters just don't have the same sense of humor that I do.

One More Hurdle Jumped

I've been doing some of my best thinking in the shower lately. The last couple of mornings I had "Aha!" moments while shampooing my hair and went straight to my office after I dried off to jot down some ideas in the notepad I keep next to my computer.

My epiphanies related to the story that I've been working on and have been alternately in love with and frustrated by. I had a couple of twists in the story as I originally envisioned it, but I couldn't work out the kinks. Well, I figured out a couple of ways to align the plot points and now I think the story will flow together nicely.

It feels good to have jumped over a major hurdle, now I just have to find the time to write the story as I see it in my head while my main character is still talking to me. I've been hearing her voice a little more clearly lately, but I've also had a hard time finding the hours in the day that I need to dedicate myself to writing at home.

Speaking of which, it's time to read bedtime stories to Jack -- one of my favorite things in the world. But I made a promise to myself to keep jumping over those writing hurdles tonight, so I'll be back at it shortly.

Always a Good Excuse

Tonight's potential excuse for not writing? A headache.

It's a potential excuse, because after I get my son to bed a little earlier than usual I intend to sit in front of the computer and write for as long as I can before my head splits in half. After that, I plan to lay down in bed, in my room that's not as brightly lit as my office, and read about writing. I'm still working on Stephen King's "On Writing."

My hope is that my headache will become bearable once Jack is in bed and the noise level in the house drops. We'll find out in about a half hour or so. Wish me luck!

Where Did My Motivation Go?

I seem to have lost my motivation. I don't know where it's gone.

I think it has to do with being in front of the computer all day at the office and not wanting to sit in front of the computer any longer at home. This weekend, I had plenty of time to write, but I spent it with my son and husband or reading instead.

I like to think the reading counts as a half credit for writing. It's research, right? I am studying other writers' styles and structures, aren't I?

And here it is five minutes until 10 p.m. and I need to get to bed by 11 o'clock. I've just now sat down to write, but I still need to take out my contact lenses, wash my face and brush my teeth before I go to bed.

Maybe tomorrow night will be more productive and I'll be more motivated. At least I made the effort. I sat down in front of the computer for a little while longer today. It was worth a shot.

Four Days

I did it again. I got so absorbed in reading a book that I haven't worked on writing anything of my own for the last couple of days.

After a long, slow start, I finished reading Stephenie Meyer's "The Host" this weekend. Since I'm such a big fan of her "Twilight" series (yes, I'm a "Twi-hard" for better or worse), I've been wanting to read her other novel for a while. So three weeks ago when I saw it at the library, I checked it out.

I was resistant as the story began. The first 150 or so of the 619-pages were slow. Intriguing to a degree, but very slow. I read bits and pieces here and there until I got about halfway through and I almost couldn't put it down. I read the second half just this weekend.

It wasn't the addicting, guilty pleasure of "Twilight" (or "New Moon" or "Eclipse" -- my favorite -- or "Breaking Dawn") and the ending was somewhat predictable, but I had to know how she got to the end of the story. It was a satisfying journey.

But, now that it's over, the guilt is setting in. The first pang came when I pulled up my blog and realized I hadn't written here since Thursday. The second pang of guilt hit me immediately after that realization when I figured it's been at least that long since I've worked on any of my other writing projects.

So, tomorrow, with only Stephen King's "On Writing" and a couple of magazines still waiting to be finished, I anticipate sitting here adding to this blog and focusing on writing my own books. It was nice to have so much time to read this weekend, but it would've felt great to jot down my own words too.

Too Tired to Write

Between adjusting to my job with a different newspaper and the general exhaustion that comes with being a working mom and wife, I've found myself too tired to write much lately.

Even the last few nights when my son has gone to bed early, by the time he's asleep, I start nodding off as I sit in front of the computer. Last night, I opted to read instead and went to bed an hour earlier than usual. After a busy day at work today and getting home a little late, I predict a similar path tonight.

I'm glad I've managed to write here almost every night, but I'd like to make some progress on other projects too. I guess that's what the weekends are for, right?

Never Enough Hours Part 2

After my long rant last night about how few hours there are in a day, I came home tonight and played Go Fish with my son until it was time for dinner. I'm just now sitting in front of the computer to write with only a few minutes left before he's ready for bed and it's time for me to read him to sleep.

Despite all of my frustration last night, when I spent an hour filling out paperwork and ended up with only a half hour to write before I was falling asleep at the computer, I'm glad I opted for Go Fish tonight instead of Go Write.

However, I do have two disclosures to make. First, I did stop between games of Go Fish to check my e-mail. Second, I should have a little extra writing time tonight, because Jack is going to bed early tonight, since he spent the day with his grandma and didn't take a nap.

But while I often feel like I'm doing so many things at once that I'm doing none of them well, I do have one recent accomplishment for which I am very proud. Jack is finally potty-trained.

Now, we do have accidents still and the nighttime potty-training is a rocky road, but we're doing so well during the day that I returned a box of Pull-ups to the store that we no longer need. So, my husband and I have managed to accomplish something during our limited time away from work. I'll take progress wherever I can get it.

Never Enough Hours in a Day

I miss working from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m.

With my new role at work, I'm now required to be in the office from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. That means I don't get home until 5:30 or 6. That means I have a maximum of one hour to check my work e-mail and make sure no one needs a last minute question answered, change my clothes, check my personal e-mail, maybe do some writing for myself and, oh yeah, play with my son and talk to my husband before I have to start making dinner.

After dinner, I've got to make my lunch for the next day, pick out and potentially iron my clothes for work in the morning and set aside clothes and shoes for the gym, post something on my blog, maybe do a little writing and sometimes pay bills before it's time to read books and put my son to bed. And that's my favorite time of day, even when he's been nuts all evening and he's refusing to go to sleep, because we get to cuddle for a half hour.

By the time I sneak out of his bedroom between 9 and 9:30 after having dozed off at the foot of his bed, I've still got to get myself ready for bed and finish my other nightly chores before I settle in front of the computer around 10 or so to write until 11 or 11:30 or whenever I start to fall asleep sitting up.

I limit myself to 11:30, because I have to get up at 4:30 to go to the gym. Some people need six to eight hours, but I can function and sound somewhat intelligent with only five hours of sleep. I dream of skipping the gym and sleeping until 6 a.m., but the early morning is the only time I have left for exercise. My life is so sedentary between work and writing at home that I've got to get moving at least four days a week.

I have to get up at 4:30 to make it to the gym by 5 a.m. then home by 6:15 so I can get myself and my son dressed and out the door by 7:15. That gives me just enough time to drop him at preschool and make it to the office somewhere in the vicinity of 8 a.m.

It's exhausting just thinking about it. And it's amazing I'm able to string thoughts together for long enough periods of time to write a coherent story. I'm not a religious woman, but thank God for the weekends and a supportive husband.

I was just telling Jeff, "If there were 30 hours in a day and a six-day week with a two-day weekend, then I would get so much more done in a day." From behind the book from which he's tried to read more than two paragraphs at a time all night, he nodded and grunted in agreement as I do when he tries to ask me questions while I'm writing. Not only are we on the same page, we speak the same language.

Productive Weekend

Well, I didn't complete the one household chore I wanted to tackle this weekend -- finishing the dusting I started last weekend -- but I did spend so much time playing with my son that I wore him out enough that he took long naps yesterday and today. That meant I had plenty of time to write this weekend.

Maybe Jack was the inspiration I needed to get back to my writing. Even when he wears me out too, I'm still so happy from hanging out with him that I channel that energy into something productive, like writing. I've got to take advantage of the daylight hours when he's sleeping, after all.

We had a great time yesterday morning at the Children's Museum in downtown San Diego, playing in a new clubhouse there, making crafts, listening to stories and drumming in a drum circle. Then we had lunch at Horton Plaza before making our way home. I like it when we get to hang out like that, with nothing else that we're rushing home for, and we manage to avoid major tantrums. Jack's always been pretty fun to pal around with.

Today, Jack, my husband and I sat around the house reading, playing and sitting at the computer. Jeff even hung out with Jack in his room while I wrote for an hour or so. It was nice to continue my train of thought with a minimum of interruptions before we took showers then headed out for my nine-year-old nephew's birthday party.

Having gotten some good work done in the morning, I wasn't thinking about it while we were out. I knew I'd be able to pick up where I left off, since my character is so fresh in my mind now. She's speaking to me again or at least I'm paying better attention.

So, now I'm looking forward to some more productive writing time tonight, both before and after I get Jack in bed. It feels good to have the creative juices flowing again.

Finally ... Progress!

I wrote four pages while my son was sleeping this afternoon. I pounded out a scene I've been picturing for a long time and suddenly, there she was in my head.

The main character in my latest project came to me about nine months ago. Her voice was very clear to me at that point, but I got distracted by another story that was percolating in my brain and ended up putting this other woman on hold for a while so I could finish that other project. We'll call it book three. The character I'm working on now is book two.

I got about 130 pages into book one, then decided that story was going nowhere and taking a painfully long and slow trip to get there. When the thumb drive I had it saved on died and I wasn't nearly as upset as I should've been for something I spent about two months working on, I decided book one just wasn't meant to be.

But, I've always wanted to come back to the character in book two. I thought about her a lot while I was working on book three. I've been wanting to sit down with a journal and really sketch her out along with the other people she would be interacting with and the world that she would inhabit, but I never have. At this point, I realize that's never going to happen, so I just need to put her on the page as she comes to me. That's how I wrote and finished book three and, so far, I'm pretty happy with how that one turned out.

And I'm taking it as a good sign that after I finished those four pages this afternoon and my son woke up from his nap I was picturing the start of the book's next chapter, the next big scene for my female character. Some of those details I couldn't decide on over the last several months are suddenly clear. I don't know what happened, but finally ... progress!

Here I Go Again

I gave myself a good talking to today. I said to myself, "Self, snap out of it!"

I was sitting at my desk at work, taking a break from reading about biotechnology, when I turned around and saw my journal peeking out of my purse. Then I sighed.

I sighed, because I realized that I hadn't written in it in a few weeks. Not a single word. The whole point of buying a journal small enough and light enough to carry around in the black hole that is my purse was that I'd be able to write it in at any time that inspiration struck or an image caught my eye or I wanted to record something that I was thinking about writing in to a story. Instead, it's become a reminder of what I'm not doing. I have not been writing anything at all. At least, nothing for my own personal enjoyment.

That guilt, combined with a kick in the pants from Stephen King's "On Writing," which I read while I ate my lunch, is just what I need to open up a writing project I've been avoiding and give it another go.

So, here were my words of inspiration today from King, "... stopping a piece of work just because it's hard, either emotionally or imaginatively, is a bad idea. Sometimes you have to go on when you don't feel like it, and sometimes you're doing good work when it feels like all you're managing is to shovel shit from a sitting position."

Well, since I've been in the midst of what I feel like is a "shitty first draft," to again borrow from Anne Lamott in "Bird by Bird," I certainly hope King is right.

A Writing Funk

About the only thing I've written for the past few weeks has been e-mail and the few entries I've posted on this blog.

I'm a little disgusted with myself. I've been so frustrated and unable to focus that I've taken an extended break from writing. I've been reading at night, but avoiding the computer as much as possible. I know I need to plant myself here anyway and make myself write.

The problem is that I'm not feeling a strong connection to the two projects I already have going. And with the one new story idea that I was excited about at first, my love affair has faded.

So now I'm stuck again. I know I just need to start writing and get the creative juices flowing, but I'm lacking motivation. I need an attitude adjustment.

But, tonight's not the night. I'm in too much of a writing funk and I'm too tired tonight to push myself as hard as I need to.

Sick Kid = Sick Mom

As if life wasn't topsy-turvy enough for me recently, it looks like I might miss some time at work, because I need to be home with my sick son and my sick self.

The same sequence of events has occurred in our house as it usually does when Jack gets sick. My husband had a slight tickle in his throat and minor congestion for a day after spending time wiping Jack's nose, but I seem to be getting a full-blown cold that is likely to stay with me for a week or longer.

Jack had a runny nose and was congested and lethargic on Sunday. He had a fever Sunday and half of yesterday and laid around on the couch feeling ill. Today, the fever is gone, but he's congested, hoarse, coughing and still sluggish.

This morning I woke up slightly congested. The sinus pressure has been building in my forehead all day and now I'm looking forward to going to bed an hour earlier than usual.

The downside of being sick is the painful, tired part and getting behind at work a week into my new job. The upside is that I might have some time at home to read, write and watch movies. Of course, that's assuming that my sick kid will share the TV with his sick mom.

Sick Kid = More Writing (or Reading) Time

I may be jinxing myself since my son is not yet in bed, but he's sick today so it looks like I'll have a little more time than usual to write or maybe read tonight.

Jack was supposed to start preschool today, but he stayed home with dad on Jeff's day off, because he has a pretty nasty cold and even had a fever last night and this morning. He hasn't had a nap today and is a little more out of it than usual for 8 p.m., so I anticipate that I'll have a half hour or more than I would on a normal night to sit here and write or keep reading Stephenie Meyer's "The Host."

That story has gotten a little more interesting now that I'm about 100 pages in. I'd like to keep reading it to see how long it can hold my attention. It's not a typical science fiction book and is actually a sci-fi/romance hybrid, like Meyer's "Twilight" series that's a fantasy/romance hybrid. It's all internal dialog though, so I'm not sure how they'll make "The Host" into a movie, but that's what screenwriters get the big bucks for, right?

Well, as much as I hate that my son is miserably sick, I am looking forward to the extra writing and/or reading time tonight, so I must end this and get him to bed.

Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way

It's been a busy past couple of days, but busy in a mostly good way.

I'm still settling in to my new role at work and expect to be for a while. However, I also spent some time at the hospital supporting my brother and sister-in-law and then helping to welcome my new niece into the family. Little Lily is very much adored, since she's the second female grandchild and the first new girl out of seven nieces and nephews in almost nine years.

The first half of yesterday and today was spent cleaning in preparation for hosting Easter at our house. When everyone was here, the adults happily cooed over the new baby and the cousins had fun playing together. They didn't even notice the earthquake shaking at 7.2 on the Richter scale a few miles away in Mexico, because they were in the middle of an Easter egg hunt.

The only downside to the weekend is that my son, who was supposed to have his first day of preschool tomorrow, has a bad cold with a fever. He was starting to get lethargic, but ran around with his cousins all afternoon, wiping his nose on his shirt and fueling his antics with the occasional strawberry or cupcake.

By the time everybody left, Jack's fever kicked in again and he was slumped over on the couch looking miserable. He cuddled with me on the couch for a while -- so hot with fever that he was making me sweat -- until we changed him into his pajamas and put him in his bed without a bath or reading our usual half dozen books. I'm glad he felt well enough to enjoy Easter with his cousins, but bummed that he might be paying for it for a couple of days. Oh, well. I guess preschool can wait.

Just like this blog, I suppose. I've been so busy and so tired every day that I haven't had time to sit down and write anything. But when the reason is spending time with my ever-growing family, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Adjusting to Change

I'm adjusting to new responsibilities at work, which means office hours from 8 to 5 instead of 7 to 4, working for a daily newspaper instead of a weekly and writing about law instead of real estate.

So, with all of those adjustments going on, that means changes for my family too. I'm getting home later, spending less time with my husband and son, and finding less time to write for my own enjoyment. Which means less time for this blog. Which means reneging on my commitment to write something here every day.

Sometimes it feels like that elusive work-life balance that I've been striving for -- that we all struggle with -- is only getting further from my grasp. But what it really means is that I have to find ways to fit the things that I want to do (writing and spending time with my family) around the things I have to do (work, exercise, work, clean).

It's time to prioritize so that my life can adjust to fit my work schedule.

Yet Another Project

I'm thinking about starting a new writing project, since the one I started then stopped then started again is causing me nothing but frustration and making come up with reasons to avoid the computer all together.

I thought of a new story idea today that I'm actually itching to get started on. The main character's voice is much clearer in my head than the voice of the character that's been causing me minor anguish for the past month or so. If this new woman wants to tell me her story, shouldn't I listen to her?

The other woman. The younger, more tortured character, whose voice was so sharp about eight months ago when she first came to me, is fading. She's not rattling around in my brain shouting her story for me anymore. Trying to write in her voice when she's barely whispering anymore doesn't feel right. When I read the words on the screen, they don't look or sound right.

So, maybe I need to give this new woman a chance to speak. Maybe it's time for a fresh perspective.

Family Distractions

I'm happy to say that my distraction from writing tonight was family.

My mother invited us over for a spaghetti dinner to meet the mother of my sister-in-law, who flew in from Taiwan to help my brother and his wife welcome and care for their baby, who will be arriving within the next few weeks. We're all very excited to meet baby Lily, especially since it's been nine years and four grandchildren since we've added a girl to our family.

So, here I am, tired from a busy Monday and happy to have a good excuse -- or at least a happy excuse -- for not writing tonight. There's always tomorrow ... except for the fact that I have to spend the rest of this week cleaning since I agreed tonight to host Easter at my house on Sunday. Oh well, it's about time to scrub the toilets and sweep the floors anyway.

Warm, Sunny Day

The weather was too gloriously warm and sunny today to sit in front of the computer and write. And as I've written here recently, I'm alternating between avoiding the blank page and annoying cursor blinking at me and settling in front of the computer feeling nothing but frustration and disgust.

And I've had a few things going on in my day job that have been a major distraction.

Fortunately, I'm settling in to my new role at work and the weather is expected to turn colder, so I should have a few less distractions this week. At home, it looks like I'll be back at it again, trying to determine where to take the story that I'm writing next.

I finished Anne LaMott's "Bird by Bird" this week and "Mathilda Savitch" by Victor Lodato. Loved both of them. Yesterday, I bought Stephen King's "On Writing," which is pretty funny so far, though not terribly useful for writing yet other than a few colorful descriptions of a few selected childhood memories that he recounts vividly.

Later yesterday afternoon I went to the library and picked up "The Host" by Stephenie Meyer. I loved her "Twilight" books, so I've been looking forward to diving in to "The Host." But, science fiction isn't usually my thing and this book is off to a slow start, so I'm not sure yet if I can hang in there for all 600-plus pages. I'll give it a shot.

It'll be hard to concentrate on work tomorrow, with another day of sunshine and warmth in the forecast, but I've got lots to do in the office and "On Writing" in my purse to read over lunch. I'll try to stay on task so that I can leave work at a decent hour and do some writing for my own account when I get home.