Holy Big Voice Batman! (and I’m back…)

So today I went to my first CRW (Carolina Romance Writer’s) meeting in a few months hoping to get the much-needed kick in the pants to get back to my writing. It worked. But maybe a little too well, because here I sit (immediately following the meeting) at a Starbucks in Charlotte working on a “I’m Back!” blog post.

While I sit here with the wheels turning in my head trying to divine the perfect words to say, “Hey World! I’m BACK!” The only thing I can think of is the words spilling from a perfect stranger’s mouth. Why? Frankly because the man won’t. stop. talking.

Now, for those of you who know me, I’m a chatter. I will sit and bend your ear for an entire day if you let me, but there are some things best left unsaid in a public forum or say outside a Starbucks on a nice Carolina Blue day. Like that your now-spouse turned you down for years because she had it in her mind that you were only in the “friend zone” and she wanted someone more “exotic.” The fact that you now landed her and have kept her for 7 years shouldn’t be something worthy of applause. Yet somehow you did receive just that. Applause. Huh?

Maybe it’s just me but, if you were my character and I was creating you, at this point from all that you’ve told to some long-lost friends and a whole-slew of perfect strangers, your wife settled. Yeah, I said it. She settled. Why? I sure as hell don’t know, but maybe it was because she was getting old or she got tired of watching you hit on inappropriate women or maybe she finally got tired of listening to you beg for her to see you as something other than her buddy. And not even a best buddy from the story you just told… Just a plain old buddy who used to ask her out relentlessly. Oh and who oftentimes over the years had to reassure her that you weren’t interested in guys.

See, in the world where I live and play, if you were my hero, the two of you would’ve been best friends. There would be a slew of bad relationships spanning years of friendship. Oooo, and let’s not forget the underlying sexual attraction between you both. You wouldn’t be the only one thinking she’s hot. Not in my world. She would never mention wanting someone more exotic, because in my world, you would be exactly what she wanted, but here’s the kicker… you would be the one person she really wanted but just couldn’t have. “Why not?” you ask. and the easy answer is “who cares?”. What matters is that in my world you would be the guy she compared everyone else to. The one she dreamed about when she closed her eyes at night. The voice she longed to hear on the phone after she got some bad news. You, loud-talking stranger, would be that guy if you were living in my world. Which for you would end pretty darn well.

In the real world, I’m glad she finally decided to give you the chance you always wanted and it sounds like so far, so good, but I hope for everyone’s sake that she doesn’t finally meet that exotic guy she’d been holding out for for so long. Because in the real world that could spell disaster. Of course in my world, the tall exotic guy wouldn’t be an issue, because he would’ve broken her heart into a million pieces when she caught him in the midst of a three-way with his sister’s best friend and her roommate when all the characters were in college. She would’ve called you in tears and you would’ve done what any good best guy friend would’ve offered to do; bring over a half gallon of chunky monkey ice cream, a copy of Ever After, Pretty Woman, or worst-case a romantic comedy with her favorite hunky actor in it, and then dried her tears and offered her a back rub. (Read that again guys looking for tips… BACK rub!)

By the time the credits rolled, she would’ve been asking you (instead of running a mental dialog with herself ) why she didn’t date a guy as wonderful as you. That would’ve been your prefect opening. Your opportunity to blow as it was. And in my world, sir, you would have said something like, “Yeah, why aren’t you dating me?” Then the words would start a fire on pages that turned faster than the blink of an eye and you would have the happy-ever-after story that was worth telling.

But, I am glad you have had 7 happy years together and I wish you 7 more and then 7 more after that (and so on), but next time you feel the need to talk about your story out loud in a public place at a volume that rivals a jet-engines, make sure no writers are nearby or you may wind up with a much sadder story that you think you have because they will have rewritten yours in a way that reminds you some stories (like how you had to beg for her years to consider dating you) aren’t really worth telling.

Thanks though for the inspiration for my “I’m back!” blog post because I wasn’t sure what to write about until your story got me thinking.

Readers, I am so glad to be back on the blog. I’ve missed you all dearly and I can’t wait to get back to regular postings!

Cheers!
~Jeni

Holy Big Voice Batman! (and I’m back…)

So today I went to my first CRW (Carolina Romance Writer’s) meeting in a few months hoping to get the much-needed kick in the pants to get back to my writing. It worked. But maybe a little too well, because here I sit (immediately following the meeting) at a Starbucks in Charlotte working on a “I’m Back!” blog post.

While I sit here with the wheels turning in my head trying to divine the perfect words to say, “Hey World! I’m BACK!” The only thing I can think of is the words spilling from a perfect stranger’s mouth. Why? Frankly because the man won’t. stop. talking.

Now, for those of you who know me, I’m a chatter. I will sit and bend your ear for an entire day if you let me, but there are some things best left unsaid in a public forum or say outside a Starbucks on a nice Carolina Blue day. Like that your now-spouse turned you down for years because she had it in her mind that you were only in the “friend zone” and she wanted someone more “exotic.” The fact that you now landed her and have kept her for 7 years shouldn’t be something worthy of applause. Yet somehow you did receive just that. Applause. Huh?

Maybe it’s just me but, if you were my character and I was creating you, at this point from all that you’ve told to some long-lost friends and a whole-slew of perfect strangers, your wife settled. Yeah, I said it. She settled. Why? I sure as hell don’t know, but maybe it was because she was getting old or she got tired of watching you hit on inappropriate women or maybe she finally got tired of listening to you beg for her to see you as something other than her buddy. And not even a best buddy from the story you just told… Just a plain old buddy who used to ask her out relentlessly. Oh and who oftentimes over the years had to reassure her that you weren’t interested in guys.

See, in the world where I live and play, if you were my hero, the two of you would’ve been best friends. There would be a slew of bad relationships spanning years of friendship. Oooo, and let’s not forget the underlying sexual attraction between you both. You wouldn’t be the only one thinking she’s hot. Not in my world. She would never mention wanting someone more exotic, because in my world, you would be exactly what she wanted, but here’s the kicker… you would be the one person she really wanted but just couldn’t have. “Why not?” you ask. and the easy answer is “who cares?”. What matters is that in my world you would be the guy she compared everyone else to. The one she dreamed about when she closed her eyes at night. The voice she longed to hear on the phone after she got some bad news. You, loud-talking stranger, would be that guy if you were living in my world. Which for you would end pretty darn well.

In the real world, I’m glad she finally decided to give you the chance you always wanted and it sounds like so far, so good, but I hope for everyone’s sake that she doesn’t finally meet that exotic guy she’d been holding out for for so long. Because in the real world that could spell disaster. Of course in my world, the tall exotic guy wouldn’t be an issue, because he would’ve broken her heart into a million pieces when she caught him in the midst of a three-way with his sister’s best friend and her roommate when all the characters were in college. She would’ve called you in tears and you would’ve done what any good best guy friend would’ve offered to do; bring over a half gallon of chunky monkey ice cream, a copy of Ever After, Pretty Woman, or worst-case a romantic comedy with her favorite hunky actor in it, and then dried her tears and offered her a back rub. (Read that again guys looking for tips… BACK rub!)

By the time the credits rolled, she would’ve been asking you (instead of running a mental dialog with herself ) why she didn’t date a guy as wonderful as you. That would’ve been your prefect opening. Your opportunity to blow as it was. And in my world, sir, you would have said something like, “Yeah, why aren’t you dating me?” Then the words would start a fire on pages that turned faster than the blink of an eye and you would have the happy-ever-after story that was worth telling.

But, I am glad you have had 7 happy years together and I wish you 7 more and then 7 more after that (and so on), but next time you feel the need to talk about your story out loud in a public place at a volume that rivals a jet-engines, make sure no writers are nearby or you may wind up with a much sadder story that you think you have because they will have rewritten yours in a way that reminds you some stories (like how you had to beg for her years to consider dating you) aren’t really worth telling.

Thanks though for the inspiration for my “I’m back!” blog post because I wasn’t sure what to write about until your story got me thinking.

Readers, I am so glad to be back on the blog. I’ve missed you all dearly and I can’t wait to get back to regular postings!

Cheers!
~Jeni

RWA

This year has been a huge batch of firsts for me when it comes to my writing career:

I joined RWA (Romance Writers of America).

I joined my local RWA chapter CRW (Carolina Romance Writers).
I finished writing my first book.
I did my first pitch for an agent.
I did my first pitch for an editor.
I did my first writing retreat.
And now I’m at my first National RWA Conference.
In fact this is my first conference ever really. My jobs prior to my writing weren’t the kind where conferences were something that I participated in.  I have been to events for Ron’s work, but nothing like this.
I kid you not when I say that for the last 2 days, I have filled my head with more info than I am sure to retain. I have heard amazingly talented authors speak so eloquently that a room of people were brought to tears. I have made new friends, new contacts, and had the opportunity to meet some of the writers who I greatly admire. 
So far, it’s been amazing. Overwhelming. But amazing.
I came to RWA not sure what to expect. My suitcases were packed to the point of no return and I hoped that I wouldn’t stumble over my words too much when I met someone new. After two full days of lectures, I’m getting to the point of my brain exploding with new ideas, exciting new techniques, and inspiration to spare. And I want more. But there is only one day remaining and then it’s back to the grind stone aka kids. 
I’m trying my best to find a way to bottle up the experience so I can carry it with me until next year as I get ready to submit to both the agent and the editor that requested a look at The Wind’s Solace. Before I know it, tomorrow will come and go and my first RWA will be over. I’ll take everything I’ve learned and carry it home with me as a more confident writer.
Oh and I’m pretty sure some attendees of another conference happening locally will take some things of their very own home. Yup, a big name tech company was sharing our hotel and I’m pretty sure some of those reserved guys got more than an earful from some of us more brazen romance writers while in the elevators at any given time. 😉  You’re welcome Mrs. Techie. You’re welcome!
Thanks to all of you for being patient here while I worked overtime on edits to prepare for this conference. I hope to see you all again here next week! 
Cheers!
~Jeni

It’s Father’s Day…

I know, to many it’s just another greeting card holiday, but to me Father’s Day is something much more. Not because I had a wonderful father or anything, because I promise you I did not, but because I had something more.  A wonderful mother.

 

As I watch my facebook feeds fill up with loving messages of father appreciation, I sit and wonder if it would be wrong of me to add to it a loving message for my mother.

 

You know her. The one who is fighting her cancer daily for another day on this Earth to be with her family, her friends, her loved ones. The one who taught me to believe in myself even if I didn’t think any one else believed in me. The woman who taught me to be brave and be strong and set such a good example of how to be a loving person, that I had no choice but to be a compassionate person who strives daily to measure up to the pure kindness and goodness that is who she is.

 

This isn’t to say that I don’t have dads to celebrate on a day like today. Ron is a great dad. Stink is a great dad. My FIL is a great PopPop. So, I do. I just feel bad that today it would be taking away from them for me to celebrate my mom again on another greeting card holiday.

 

I can’t help but celebrate her again today though. Because she has always stepped in to the “dad” shoes when I needed someone to be my “dad.” She helped me learn how to drive s stick shift even though she herself didn’t know how. She helped me with my foul shots when I played basketball even though she had never played. When a boyfriend wasn’t good for me, she told me to walk away and not look back and offered to kick his ass when he continued to harass me (although my mother doesn’t say the word ‘ass’ she says ‘tuckus’ or ‘hiney’). When I was scared, she protected me. When I felt down, she picked me up. When I felt lost, she came and found me (she still digs me out from the dark places I find myself in even if it’s only under a pile of laundry).

 

This wonder woman was more of a father than the man who legitimately holds the title and for that I think she deserves to hear “Happy Father’s Day, Mom.” So to all the moms out there who stepped in for a man and became both Mom and Dad for a kid, “Happy Father’s Day to you.” You deserve to be recognized too.

Mom & I. She’s never let me go since!

 

It’s Father’s Day…

I know, to many it’s just another greeting card holiday, but to me Father’s Day is something much more. Not because I had a wonderful father or anything, because I promise you I did not, but because I had something more.  A wonderful mother.

As I watch my facebook feeds fill up with loving messages of father appreciation, I sit and wonder if it would be wrong of me to add to it a loving message for my mother.

You know her. The one who is fighting her cancer daily for another day on this Earth to be with her family, her friends, her loved ones. The one who taught me to believe in myself even if I didn’t think any one else believed in me. The woman who taught me to be brave and be strong and set such a good example of how to be a loving person, that I had no choice but to be a compassionate person who strives daily to measure up to the pure kindness and goodness that is who she is.

This isn’t to say that I don’t have dads to celebrate on a day like today. Ron is a great dad. Stink is a great dad. My FIL is a great PopPop. So, I do. I just feel bad that today it would be taking away from them for me to celebrate my mom again on another greeting card holiday.

I can’t help but celebrate her again today though. Because she has always stepped in to the “dad” shoes when I needed someone to be my “dad.” She helped me learn how to drive s stick shift even though she herself didn’t know how. She helped me with my foul shots when I played basketball even though she had never played. When a boyfriend wasn’t good for me, she told me to walk away and not look back and offered to kick his ass when he continued to harass me (although my mother doesn’t say the word ‘ass’ she says ‘tuckus’ or ‘hiney’). When I was scared, she protected me. When I felt down, she picked me up. When I felt lost, she came and found me (she still digs me out from the dark places I find myself in even if it’s only under a pile of laundry).

This wonder woman was more of a father than the man who legitimately holds the title and for that I think she deserves to hear “Happy Father’s Day, Mom.” So to all the moms out there who stepped in for a man and became both Mom and Dad for a kid, “Happy Father’s Day to you.” You deserve to be recognized too.

Mom & I. She’s never let me go since!

My kids say the darnedest things.

I live in my house with little individuals. I used to say little monsters, but that was unfair to them they pointed out. (I still whisper it sometimes when they aren’t in earshot, but they always seem to hear me!)

But these little monsters individuals that Ron and I created are at that age where they are actually becoming little grown-up people. They can make their own breakfasts, shower themselves (and get clean), fold/hang and put away their own laundry (yay for me!), and make a whole tableful of people laugh so hard they choke!

See it’s mainly my daughter who has the gift of one-liners. She’s so good with a zinger that I can’t wait until she’s old enough to come up with the one-liners for my books.

Case in point, this morning Ron was running late for a web-ex, thus pushing back their coffee date to this afternoon. I had the unfortunate task of telling her the bad news.  She turns to me with kind of crabby face only a six-year-old can pull off while still looking adorable and says, “You just ruined my date with daddy!”

Oh and my son, who has anxiety and lots of it, decided the night before the last day of school that he wanted his hair purple for the last day of school. About halfway through the dying process, he starts to panic. Yup, half his head is purple.  And not a cool half like trying to do a purple mohawk kind of way… like the right half of his head is purple while the rest is still dirty blond. Yeah, parenting win fail. (In case you are wondering, we did get his whole head done… see the evidence provided…)

 

 

Oh, yeah, the girl is upstairs brushing her teeth right this minute after eating lunch and hollering at me, “MOM!  I’m brushing my teeth!” Okay, I’m as happy as any mom when a kid brushes their teeth without me telling them to, but my curiosity got the best of me, so I asked “Why?” One harmless little question. Not with this kid. “Because I have a date with Daddy today. And I want to smell good for my date with Daddy. You know, I can’t talk about this all day, right? About my date with DADDY!”

Mmmhhmmm. Rub it in kid. The last date I had with daddy, we spent an entire dinner conversation talking about you and your brother, then didn’t want to go home before you monsters darling children were asleep, so we drove around aimlessly listening to music in the car for over an hour. RUB IT IN! And for those of you wondering if a romance writer can really have that lame of a date with her leading man, the sad but true answer is yes. But, the flip side of that evening was, we laughed like teenagers who were late for curfew.  It was awesome. Probably because we used to do that kind of thing when we first started dating. Driving around with nothing to do, just listening (me singing along to) music just having fun and being late for curfew.

Oh and how about the time I had read a blog earlier this week (by single dad laughing) about boys and farts being a bonding experience. In the blog the author mentions women possibly not understanding the bond created with flatulence. I mentioned to the little (girly) stinker sitting across the table from me with the big brown eyes, that a boy wrote an article saying that girls might not understand how funny farting can be. To which she laughed, squeezed one out and said, “I’m queen of the toots!” Yup, girls get fart humor too.

Oh, and the conversation at lunch today between my two kids…

Boy: I want to go to Raleigh.

Me: You used to live in Raleigh.

Girl: Did I?

Me: For about a month and a half.

Girl: Then we died? Right?

Me: What?

Boy: Al, when you die, you’re dead… unless you have a life potion.

Girl: (thoughtful introspection for less than a millisecond) If there’s ever zombies trying to chase us, I’ll run back and throw Grandma into a wheelchair and run with her in the chair so the zombies don’t get her because you know she’s too slow and zombies might want to eat her brain. (finally taking a breath) Yeah, zombies really like brains.

Me: Huh?

Grandma: At least she wasn’t going to feed me to the zombies.

Yeah, this time she wasn’t going to. With that little monster, ahem sweetheart, you just never know. Although, she’s decided she wants to be a witch. Why you ask? Because in my hierarchy of paranormal beings, werewolves beat vampires, vampires beat zombies, and witches beat werewolves. So, she wants to be a witch. That toots. Maybe that’s how she flies… hmm, I feel a kid’s book coming on.

“I’m brushing my hair, Mommy!  Because I want to look pretty for my date with Daddy…”

Just got that memo. Just now.  As I’m typing. Why? Because it’s summer break and the kids can find me anywhere!!

Ahhh! the boy just rushed in to sniff his blanket. I kid you not.  He has a sniffing compulsion with his favorite baby blanket. It’s practically in tatters so he can’t have it regularly, but I keep it handy for when his anxiety overwhelms him.  Or for when he needs a hit. Of his blankey. That smells kinda like maple syrup no matter how often I wash it. Yeah. I guess that’s better than street drugs though, so I’m chalking that one up as a parenting win. I take ’em where I can get ’em.

Okay, I’m off to be productive. If you don’t hear from me soon, send a search party because the chance is good that the little monsters lovlies killed me and didn’t have a life potion to bring me back.

Cheers!

~Jeni

 

My kids say the darnedest things…

I live in my house with little individuals. I used to say little monsters, but that was unfair to them they pointed out. (I still whisper it sometimes when they aren’t in earshot, but they always seem to hear me!)

But these little monsters individuals that Ron and I created are at that age where they are actually becoming little grown-up people. They can make their own breakfasts, shower themselves (and get clean), fold/hang and put away their own laundry (yay for me!), and make a whole tableful of people laugh so hard they choke!

See it’s mainly my daughter who has the gift of one-liners. She’s so good with a zinger that I can’t wait until she’s old enough to come up with the one-liners for my books.

Case in point, this morning Ron was running late for a web-ex, thus pushing back their coffee date to this afternoon. I had the unfortunate task of telling her the bad news.  She turns to me with kind of crabby face only a six-year-old can pull off while still looking adorable and says, “You just ruined my date with daddy!”

Oh and my son, who has anxiety and lots of it, decided the night before the last day of school that he wanted his hair purple for the last day of school. About halfway through the dying process, he starts to panic. Yup, half his head is purple.  And not a cool half like trying to do a purple mohawk kind of way… like the right half of his head is purple while the rest is still dirty blond. Yeah, parenting win fail. (In case you are wondering, we did get his whole head done… see the evidence provided…)

Oh, yeah, the girl is upstairs brushing her teeth right this minute after eating lunch and hollering at me, “MOM!  I’m brushing my teeth!” Okay, I’m as happy as any mom when a kid brushes their teeth without me telling them to, but my curiosity got the best of me, so I asked “Why?” One harmless little question. Not with this kid. “Because I have a date with Daddy today. And I want to smell good for my date with Daddy. You know, I can’t talk about this all day, right? About my date with DADDY!”

Mmmhhmmm. Rub it in kid. The last date I had with daddy, we spent an entire dinner conversation talking about you and your brother, then didn’t want to go home before you monsters darling children were asleep, so we drove around aimlessly listening to music in the car for over an hour. RUB IT IN! And for those of you wondering if a romance writer can really have that lame of a date with her leading man, the sad but true answer is yes. But, the flip side of that evening was, we laughed like teenagers who were late for curfew.  It was awesome. Probably because we used to do that kind of thing when we first started dating. Driving around with nothing to do, just listening (me singing along to) music just having fun and being late for curfew.

Oh and how about the time I had read a blog earlier this week (by single dad laughing) about boys and farts being a bonding experience. In the blog the author mentions women possibly not understanding the bond created with flatulence. I mentioned to the little (girly) stinker sitting across the table from me with the big brown eyes, that a boy wrote an article saying that girls might not understand how funny farting can be. To which she laughed, squeezed one out and said, “I’m queen of the toots!” Yup, girls get fart humor too.

Oh, and the conversation at lunch today between my two kids…

Boy: I want to go to Raleigh.
Me: You used to live in Raleigh.
Girl: Did I?
Me: For about a month and a half.
Girl: Then we died? Right?
Me: What?
Boy: Al, when you die, you’re dead… unless you have a life potion.
Girl: (thoughtful introspection for less than a millisecond) If there’s ever zombies trying to chase us, I’ll run back and throw Grandma into a wheelchair and run with her in the chair so the zombies don’t get her because you know she’s too slow and zombies might want to eat her brain. (finally taking a breath) Yeah, zombies really like brains.
Me: Huh?
Grandma: At least she wasn’t going to feed me to the zombies.

Yeah, this time she wasn’t going to. With that little monster, ahem sweetheart, you just never know. Although, she’s decided she wants to be a witch. Why you ask? Because in my hierarchy of paranormal beings, werewolves beat vampires, vampires beat zombies, and witches beat werewolves. So, she wants to be a witch. That toots. Maybe that’s how she flies… hmm, I feel a kid’s book coming on.

“I’m brushing my hair, Mommy!  Because I want to look pretty for my date with Daddy…”
Just got that memo. Just now.  As I’m typing. Why? Because it’s summer break and the kids can find me anywhere!!

Ahhh! the boy just rushed in to sniff his blanket. I kid you not.  He has a sniffing compulsion with his favorite baby blanket. It’s practically in tatters so he can’t have it regularly, but I keep it handy for when his anxiety overwhelms him.  Or for when he needs a hit. Of his blankey. That smells kinda like maple syrup no matter how often I wash it. Yeah. I guess that’s better than street drugs though, so I’m chalking that one up as a parenting win. I take ’em where I can get ’em.

Okay, I’m off to be productive. If you don’t hear from me soon, send a search party because the chance is good that the little monsters lovlies killed me and didn’t have a life potion to bring me back.

Cheers!
~Jeni

There is a mountain I need to climb today.

Unfortunately it’s made out of laundry.
Some clean to be folded and put away, most dirty to be washed, dried, folded and put away.

workathomemumsnetwork.com

But I’m not going to worry about it. *gasp*

That’s right, because today, I plant to spend the entire day doing what my Carolina Romance Writers meeting inspired me to do. EDIT!

I know, I know, I seem to only talk about editing these days, but honestly that is mostly what I am doing with my writing.  Thanks to the suggestion of a great writer (Tracy Poole) I read a book about Deep Point of View then followed it up yesterday with a session on DPOV at our monthly meeting.

Yes, that’s my MS on a pile of laundry…

These new skills couldn’t have come at a better time either. “Why?” You ask. Well, I have a contest entry due in a few days that I’ve been wanting to submit and with all of this great newfound knowledge, I think my submission will be much stronger.

So, for the rest of today I won’t be worrying about goals and laundry, I’ll be editing/rewriting. Not that I expect to win a contest, but because with each contest I enter and receive feedback on, the better my story becomes!

Maybe then I am going to actually climb a mountain today. A manuscript mountain!

What mountains are in your path this week?

Working, working, working

It’s been longer than I’d like to admit since I last updated this blog.  For that, please accept my humble apologies. If you don’t follow Mimosa Mornings Writers yet, that’s a great way to keep up with me every Wednesday.  🙂

However, let me fill you in on what’s been going on since we last met.

I’ve been editing like a feind. I also went on a weekend writer’s retreat with my local chapter of RWA (Romance Writers of America). Guess who I got to meet?  Anna DeStefano! I know, right?!?! She was amazing and did a three-part workshop with us that has me re-inspired to edit!

I can’t tell you just how much I needed that push to get back to editing since I was starting to dread sitting down in front of my computer to edit. Perfect timing!

The weekend also offered me the priceless opportunity to get better acquainted with the local writers in RWA. I never expected to have so much support as a writer. Honestly, I couldn’t have found a better group of people to work with!

Oh! Don’t let me forget to mention that I also was lucky enough to find a group of writers who are all needing that “accountability” that sometimes falls by the wayside when you don’t have a hard-fast deadline to keep you working. So, we’ve decided to implement an accountability pledge where each week, we will list a few reasonable small goals and we will send our progress by the end of the week.

If you’re interested here are my goals for the week as stated when I sent them to Denise Leton:

Okay, so let’s get down to business about our goal for this week…

1- I’ve printed my MS today so I can implement some of Anna’s editing suggestions.  I also bought more mini post-its than is healthy for one woman to own.  
2- I’m going through my story and getting the BME chart filled out with both internal and external conflicts to make sure my book has what it needs. 
3- I’m reading Rivet Your Readers With Deep Point Of View — It was recommended by Tracey Poole and it’s a quick read that already helps with my “showing vs telling” in a few spots that were irking me
4- One that note, by Saturday I will send you 5 different parts that I’ve revised from telling instead of showing to showing instead of telling.  

Also, I’ll send you my first chapter and overview so you know what you’re reading… 

So far, I’ve sent the first chapter and overview and started post-it noting my MS (#1). Today I’ll finish #3 and start #4. Tomorrow I’m going to do #2. Thursday I will wrap up whichever of these isn’t fully completed!  

See what I mean about working, working, working?  

The good news is that all of this work will pay off someday when the book gets picked up by a publisher. Then hopefully the second book will too. And the third, and so on. 🙂
So, until next time my faithful readers, I’ll be seeing you on Mimosa Mornings Writers every Wednesday. In fact, here’s a super secret sneak peek at tomorrow’s post entitled, Nature… Inspiration or trying to kill you?

The thing is now I live in suburbia outside of a major NC city (Yes, folks, this Jersey Girl has gone Southern Gal) and it seems all-of-a-sudden nature is out to get me.
Like bears. Apparently bears run the world. So do geese that would rather chase you down and murder you rather than just ignore you with disdain and look cute like ducks.  Why can’t geese be more like duck-pond ducks?? 

To read more, go check out Mimosa Mornings Writers tomorrow, May 22nd!
Be Well!
~Jeni

I’m walking on sunshine

Well, not really and technically I’m sitting in sun rays coming through a window, but the lyrics of a catchy song sounded better as a title than “I’m sitting on my ass with sun coming in the nearby window.”

I’ll call the spade a spade and we can move on.  My mom is currently out of town with my younger brother and his family on vacation.  I’m excited that she’s feeling well enough to go and that all the doctors who weigh in on these things eagerly gave ehr the green light to go. However, I’m finding myself worrying.

I can’t explain why exactly, but there’s this nagging worry that she will overdo and get sick or something. I know it’s an irrational worry, because she’s al set to be in a wheelchair for safety, my brother has been briefed on her needs as far as her health conditions are concerned and she’s a grown-up. She knows her limits and she has promised to respect those limits and not overdo.

But still I worry.  Why?  Probably because deep down I’m a bit of a control freak. (Okay, maybe that’s a huge understatement at times) Mostly it’s probably because once someone tells you that your favorite person in the entire world has an unknown but definitely finite number of days left in this world, you start to worry about anything that can limit or reduce those numbered days.

So I worry that she might fall. Or catch a simple cold. Or her blood sugar will tank. Or any number of stupid things that she herself would tell me to stop worrying about. Honestly, I usually do a good job of not worrying so much about those things.  Of course that’s because she’s usually right here. I can walk downstairs and around a corner and see for myself that she’s okay.

So this week when she’s away I find myself sitting on my ass, trying to work but instead hoping and praying that she’s okay. I remember doing the same thing last year when she moved back home when they couldn’t find any other cancer cells after her rigorous treatment plan, but then I thought she was healthy.  This time knowing she’s sick makes it different I guess.

The house is too quiet. She oftentimes likes having the tv on for background noise during the day. I can’t wait until she’s home again. Then I can relax again. Which is funny since she thought I’d be more relaxed with her gone so I could work in peace as she is fond of saying. Too bad that she brings me peace!

And by the time you are reading this post, I will in fact be walking on sunshine because I’ll post this after she returns home so that she won’t read it and worry about me worrying.

Be well!