Some Great Advice

Talk about achieving your dreams! Check this lady out. Be sure to read her advice at the end. With a little tweeking, it's applicable to any dream you may be working toward: starting a business, writing a book, finishing college, changing careers, creating a more stable environment for your kids than the one in which you grew up...you name it.

http://shine.yahoo.com/event/poweryourfuture/welfare-mom-creates-million-dollar-biz-how-she-did-it-2573956

                

Welfare mom creates million dollar biz: how she did it

The Afters

Some events leave a person going, "Now what?"
With the recent tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, I've been remembering how when the dust of the Pentagon and the World Trade Center buildings, those marvels of architecture, settled, holding within them untold tales of tragedy and heroism, it seemed as if the whole nation asked together, "Now what?" Our collective perception had been suddenly and irrevocably changed.

I'm sure many historic events, not all tragic, have had the same effect: the Civil Rights Movement, the attack on Pearl Harbor, the end of each World War, the Emancipation Proclamation, the signing of the Declaration of Independence, just to name a few. These were all very Big Events which required some time afterward to adjust to a new way of thinking, a new kind of reality. In looking at how people responded after life changed in such dramatic ways, we're reminded of how much of life depends on how we handle transitions.

We all have to deal with what I call The Afters. After the goal is met or the unexpected event happens, then what? Knowing how to transition is vital to our progress.
          We've finished college. Now what?
          We've gotten married...
          Had our first child...
          Gotten a new job...
          Finished our first novel...
          Accomplished a Big Goal...
          Experienced health problems...
          A job is lost...
          A long, lost uncle dies and leaves us a fortune (What? It happened to Jane Eyre.)...
The list is endless.

Good things, bad things, things we can plan for, things we can't. One thing is sure; things will change.

The more skilled we are at transitioning, the more easily we'll keep progressing and the happier we'll be in the long run.

Any tips you can share that help you with transitions?

The Good Kind of Crazy

Here's an inspiring story for you. Perhaps you've heard of Kathryn Stockett, author of the Help. When her husband is asked about her best quality, he smiles and says, "She never gives up." When asked about her worst, his eyes narrow and he says, "She. Never. Gives. Up."

Here are a few stats that prove he knows what he's talking about.

- It took her a year and a half to write her original version.
- She queried agents for three and a half years before one took interest and signed her.
- In that three and a half years she received 60 rejections, one of which read, "There is no market for this kind of tiring writing." (Ouch!)
- Also during that three and a half years she continued to revise and polish her beloved project.
- After about 15 rejections when a friend said, "Maybe the next book will be the one," Kathryn thought, "Next book?" She wasn't about to give up because of "a few stupid letters."

She tells of how after about a year and a half and about 40 rejections she started lying to her friends about what she did on weekends to save them and her embarrassment. Some time after the 45th rejection  she even stooped to lying to her husband - a "girls' weekend" was likely to find her holed up by herself at the Comfort Inn around the corner for a few hours of writing time. (When people first find out we're pursuing our passion they think it's cool. After years of what seems like little or no progress or pay off? Maybe not so much.)

The way I see it, this is the good kind of crazy.

The happy ending? Only three weeks after signing with her agent, her book sold to a publisher. It went on to become a bestseller and has been made into a movie which opens this week in theaters nationwide.

Go, Kathryn!

And here's a great quote from her -
The point is, I can't tell you how to succeed. But I can tell you how not to: Give in to the shame of being rejected and put your manuscript - or painting, song, voice, dance moves, [insert passion here] - in the coffin that is your bedside drawer and close it for good. I guarantee you that it won't take you anywhere. Or you could do what this writer did: Give in to your obession instead.

And if your friends make fun of you for chasing your dream, remember - just lie.

You can read her full article at - http://shine.yahoo.com/event/poweryourfuture/kathryn-stocketts-the-help-turned-down-60-times-before-becoming-a-bestseller-2523496/ 

Here's to Hindsight

A couple more quotes to keep you going - one especially for Michael Offutt.


Everything that can be invented has been invented.
  Charles H. Duell, commissioner, U. S. Office of Patents, 1899


But what ...is it (a microchip) good for?
  engineer at the Advanced Computing Systems Division of IBM, 1968

Where Never is Heard a Discouraging Word

We all hear discouraging words. Some of us more often than others. Sometimes those words come from right inside our own heads. Too often people try to dress up negativity by calling it practicality. Being practical is a good thing, after all, right?

Maybe yes. Maybe no.

When we have something that makes our heart sing, or that we know deep in our center we just have to do, then "practicality" can be a cursed thing. For many of us there comes a time when we simply have to hold on to our dream in spite of all reason seeming to speak out against it.

So how can we do that?

One way is to look at history. I love it when I find quotes or hear stories that are either very shortsighted or just plain wrong about someone or something that went on to be wildy successful and/or popular. It reminds me that my own naysayers are probably wrong, too. After all, I only fail if I quit trying. It may take a long time to succeed, but that's okay.

In an effort to remind you that the pooh-poohers in your life may be, and probably are, out in left field, I have some quotes for you.



I think there is a world market for maybe five computers.
              Thomas Watson, chairman of the board, IBM, 1943


There is no reason anyone would want a computer in their home.
            Ken Olson, founder of Digital Equipment Corp., 1972




So if you're discouraged or on the verge of being discouraged, buck up, my friends, and watch for more quotes throughout the rest of the week.

A Little Bubbly, Anyone?

Registration started at our high school today. As I stood in line with my youngest child waiting to register her for her senior year, it was easy to see and feel the different emotions of the teens and parents around us.

For some the start of a new school year is a dreaded thing; they'd rather be doing almost anything else. Some are completely indifferent; school just is what it is. Then there are those who look forward to it; a certain kind of excitement lights their eyes (whether they mean for it to or not).

So, what causes the difference?

I believe one of the main things is hope.

When a student holds hope for something good - being with their friends, better classes/teachers than last year, a fresh start, grades good enough to win scholarships, playing a favorite sport, landing the lead in the school play - anything good, it infuses them with the ability and desire to look forward, to keep moving on. It adds effervescence to what otherwise could be tedious or tiresome.

Hope is a promise, like a little (or large) spark that lights something deep inside us and keeps us going. It's like the bubbles in our soda or champagne. Without the bubbles we'd still have something to drink, but with them it's oh so much better.

Cheers to the bubbly that is hope!

I Wish I May, I Wish I Might

Congratulations to Marsha for knowing half of the answer to yesterday's title question (Neil Diamond, Hello Again). She now has 500 bonus points. Woo hoo! Hold on to them, Marsha. They may be worth something here should I decide to do some kind of contest or give away, which I likely will. And Kristin gets 100 points of her own for being a good sport and guessing. Now, don't you ladies feel richer?

Today I have an Official Declaration to make. Are you ready?

I officially declare August the month of HOPE. Because I have the authority to do that, you know.

Hope is a powerful thing, a thing upon which I have been stewing as of late. You can look forward to some hopeful posts this month. And so to kick things off...

Quote of the Day: When you have lost hope, you have lost everything. And when you think all is lost, when all is dire and bleak, there is always hope.
                                                              from I am Number Four

Let the hoping begin!!

Tell us: What gives you hope?

Hello, Again, Hello.

First of all - 500 bonus points to anyone who can name the song and the artist I ripped off the title of this post from. (Yes, I know it should be "...from whom I ripped off...,"  but that just sounds too proper for this venue.)

I'm sure you'll be just thrilled to know I figured out why I've been such a flaky blogger. Here's my problem - I put too much pressure on myself to have posts that are big and important and valuable. Not that there's anything wrong with posts like that, but I just couldn't come up with that every day, you know?

Then I had a light bulb moment. I realized that many of the blogs I like to follow have short, simple, fun posts most of the time. There's importance and value in those, too. (Okay, so maybe I'm a little slow sometimes. I'm sure most of you have already figured this out.)

So, this is me recommitting myself to blogging. I think I have discovered a more workable approach to this. You can count on regular posts - I'm aiming for M-F. They may be as simple as a Quote of the Day, or as dynamic as a Life Altering Moment of Enlightenment. (Yes, I know I think big.)

Be watching for a new design soon, too. I swear I'm finally going to learn how to post pics and links if it's the last thing I do!



Quote of the Day: If we played like that every week, we wouldn't be so                                 inconsistent.                                         Bryan Robson

Ya think?

10 Random Thoughts from a Newbie Writer

The author of one of the blogs I follow extended an invitation for her readers to write guest posts. I don't know if she will choose my submission to run on her blog, but either way, I thought I'd share it with you.

10 Random Thoughts from a Newbie Writer

1) I have a time warp feature on my computer of which I was previously unaware. It seems to be activated only when I am involved in literary pursuits - writing, reading agent/author blogs, things like that. This feature causes my clocks to move at five to ten times normal speed.






2) How badly do I really need sleep? I've heard that a person can last at least three to four days without sleep before going psychotic. Is that true? And if it is, would psychosis help or hurt the creative process? Just askin'.






3) It's the coolest thing ever to be able to sit in front of the computer wearing sweats or pjs, surfing all manner of fascinating things on the net and call it research, or to let my imagination run and play at will and call it work. Am I right?






4) Who knew 'l' and 'y' were so evil when placed together at the end of a word?






5) Publishing type people are insanely helpful!






6) Janet Reid scares me. Don't get me wrong. I'd love to have her in my corner fighting for me and my work. But yikes. *shudders*






7) Speaking of agents extraodinaire, why did Nathan Bransford have to switch careers just when I was getting ready to query him? I'm sure it was nothing personal.






8) Seriously, how long am I going to feel the need to keep revising/editing? I get to be 'done' at some point, don't I?






9) How can my characters have such minds of their own when they exist solely in my mind and on my pages?






10) It seems I have lots more friends now that I have all the imaginary ones running around in my head.



??Any random thoughts you'd care to share?? The randomer, the better.

Hellllloooo 2011!

So, so, so. Happy New Year, ya'll! I hope you can feel the positive energy humming around you. I can.

Seeing as the name of the blog is So Many Dreams, I figured it would be appropos to mention which dreams of mine are in the crosshairs at the moment. Here's what my little heart will be set upon for 2011 (or longer or shorter than that, as needed.)

1) Query, query, query my manuscript until a)I sign with a good agent or editor, or b)every single person whom I would reasonably consider to represent me and my work has been asked and said 'no,' at which point I would regroup and explore other options.

2) Write a rough draft of and begin editing my next book.

3) Figure out some way under the sun to get financing to progress toward my elusive degree. (And then progress toward it, of course.)

I will also be a more frequent blog poster, although I'm not stating that in an official I'm-putting-this-out-into-the-universe kind of way. I'm just saying I'm gonna be a good girl and do it.

Soooo...What about you? Care to share where your 2011 is going to take you if you have your way?

SCBWI Conference (Part 3) - The Big Finish

I used to have the idea that literary professionals were rather...unapproachable, shall we say.

I don't anymore.

Lest I forget, let me say right now that the workshops and events on Saturday of the conference were very helpful. I even had a one on one critique of the first 15 pages of my manuscript with Cheryl Klein of Arthur A. Levine. For those of you who don't recognize Cheryl's name, pull out your copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and look at the pages at the very end of the book where credits are listed. You'll see her name as the editor for the American versions of Deathly Hallows. (Number 7 isn't the only one she did, either.)

Yeah. I had part of my manuscript in the hands of JK Rowlings' American editor! Crazy. I seriously cannot believe how much insight I gained about my writing in only 15 minutes with her. And she was so kind. That session alone was worth more than the price of the whole conference.

As good as the classes were, though, they were not the highlight of the weekend. I totally expected to get a lot from the events of the conference, but I was not prepared for the experience I had with the people there. I went into it without much expectation in regards to how the people would be, so I can't say it's not like I thought it would be.

Let me give you just one example of the level of goodness there. As I mentioned earlier, they had a raffle planned. Well, the prizes, which were all donated and were very abundant, ranged from cute note cards, to bottles of wine, all the way up to tons of critiques and consultations - for query letters, unfinished manuscripts, finished manuscripts, you name it. These critiques and consultations were offered by published authors, agents and editors of varying renown. Awesome prizes, these! All the proceeds from the raffle were going to provide need-based scholarships to various SCBWI events and programs for SCBWI members.

The response to the raffle was so great that all the tickets were sold out by Saturday morning. Keep in mind this was a small conference with probably no more than 100 people, including the staff, in attendance. That afternoon when the time came to raffle off the prizes there were a handful of people who had purchased what looked like five to six foot lengths of tickets. After meeting some of them, my guess is that their reasons for buying so many were rooted in their willingness to support the scholarship fund as much as hoping to win some of the valuable prizes.


Anyway, just as they were getting ready to start the drawing of tickets, someone on the staff suggested that a limit of three prizes be placed on those who had gotten so many tickets. Now, those people who had so many tickets had paid a lot of money for them and so desereved to have all those chances to win, but every one of those multi-ticket holders thought this limiting of how much one person could win was a good idea. So agreeable and kind of them.

It gets even better, though. Since the tickets sold out so fast, there were people who wanted to buy tickets, but didn't get the chance and were sitting empty handed during the raffle. It so happened that one of the men who had tons of tickets was the first person who hit the three prize limit. When he pointed out that his most recent win was his third, instead of just removing himself from eligibility, he then offered the rest of his still numerous tickets to those who hadn't had a chance to get any. He just passed them around the room telling the non-ticket holders to take at least two each, then added as an afterthought that if someone won with one of the free tickets they had received they should make a donation to the scholarship fund. I swear I felt more like I was at some small town church bazaar than at a professional literary conference. More than anything else, the caliber of people I met at that conference made me want to join SCBWI as soon as I could. (I am now a member.)

Literary professionals unapproachable? Aloof? Too busy to be bothered with an untrained, wannabe first time authors like myself? I don't think so!

Writer's Conference Part 2 - Wherein Tracy learns something about Kristin she maybe didn't want to know

In that whole last post we only got as far as the check in for the reception, but fear not. I promise I'm not going to give a second by second recounting of the whole conference (hereafter called SCBWI. I know. It's a mouthful. It stands for Society of Children's Book Writer's and Illustrators. So you see, they really couldn't shorten it and maintain it specificity.)



Aaanyway, moving on.



When I entered the very chatty, energized room the first order of business was to find Kristin. That was easy since she was sitting by the cookie table just like she said, and she was dressed distinctively. See, Kristin loves her steampunk (think sort of old England) and pirates and dresses accordingly. If you want to see what I'm talking about you can go check out some of her pics on her blog kristinbaker.blogspot.com. So. Hugs, intros and chit chat with Kristin.

Before we were quite finished with that the organizers were getting everybody's attention to introduce the staff. When this began, and before all the staff had gathered up front, I ended up standing next to Tracey Adams, an agent and owner of Adams Literary Agency. She was definitely on my list of people to meet. However, before I, a lowly, unpublished, wannbe author, could approach her, an esteemed literary professional, (I hope you realize I'm kidding here. While there are certainly positions that deserve respect, people are people no matter what their station in life and therefore deserve to treated with respect, too. In otherwords, while I respect her position as an agent, I don't think she's better than me because of that.) she made contact with me.

Again, can I say friendly? (See the last post.)

While we were all clapping for something one of the organizers had just said Tracey smiled over at me and glanced down at my name tag. Her face brightened, she smiled even bigger and pointed back and forth between my name tag and hers. So nice, these people. She then took her place up front to be introduced with the rest of the staff.

With that taken care of Kristin and I proceeded around the room, looking at the books they had for sale, checking our the table of items to be raffled, working ourselves up for introducing ourselves to these nice strangers, and scoping out the refreshments. That's when we ran into a little...situation, shall we say?

You know the saying "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?" Well, we weren't in Vegas, Kristin, so I'm telling on you. (Actuallly, I have her permission, so don't worry.)

You need to know that Kristin and I are both wives and mothers who, for religious reasons, don't smoke or drink. Because of that I guess both of us are a bit happily naive about liquor. As we were scoping out the refreshments we saw these adorable tiny chocolate cups filled with chocolate liquid.

Who is the genius who thought up this wonderful idea? Chocolate cups? The imagination runs wild with what delights one could fill a chocolate cup - and then eat the cup when you're done with its contents! Brilliance, I tell you.

You can see what's coming here, can't you? Yep. Kristin took one of those adorable little treats. Who could resist? It turns out that what we thought was melted chocolate in those little cups was actually chocolate liqueur or something. Whatever it was, it contained alcohol. To make it worse, if I remember correctly, she even spilled a little on herself. Of course I had to threaten to tell her family and her bishop or I'm sure she would have just kept going back for more. ; )

I had certainly expected lots of different experiences that weekend, but hanging out with a drunk? Not what I saw coming.

Love you, Kristin.

I'm sure she's repented by now. : )


(I suppose I should mention that even though the cup held only a fraction of an ounce, she didn't drink but about a drop of it.)

In a word - Friendly (Writer's conference - day one)

Well! So much good stuff happened at the conference I will need more than one post to deal with it.

Now, even if you aren't a writer and you are reading this, fear not. This more of a "lovin' life" post. Besides, I believe that when we are working toward our dreams that the feelings involved are so similar that it is almost irrelevant what the dream is. In other words, I think you can relate anyway.

It has been quite some time since I have done anything that has taken me as far out of my comfort zone as going to this conference did. If you know me, you know I'm not much of one to get worked up over things. In fact, I actually like to step out of my safe little zone - keep having new experiences and learning new things, you know? But this conference? I felt like almost like a teenager about to go out on a date for the first time ever. Excited, nervous, curious, hopeful. But then, what if it was a major let down? At least I'm old enough not to have been worried about what they would think of me. That was a bonus.

So - off I went all alone to Virginia City with only the comfort of knowing I would meet there (for the first time) another member of ANWA, the writing group to which I belong.

After checking in at the motel and getting some dinner - a whole story in and of itself - I made my way to the St. Mary's Art Center where an evening reception was being held. From the parking lot I texted Kristin, the other ANWA member, to see if she had arrived. She had. She was upstairs by the cookies. (By the cookies - I knew I would like her.) Now at least I had someone specific to look for.

I took a deep breath, feeling like I was stepping into a whole new chapter of my life, and mounted the stairs to the old brick building. Mind you, all this time I was also questioning myself as to why I was making such a big deal out of this. The grown up voice in my head told me, I am an adult. I have been to other kinds of conferences before. How different can this be from those? I need to act my age (translation: in control, and frankly, boring). Well, pooh on acting my age! I was excited and felt no need to rein myself in. So there.

I did keep enough control of myself to at least appear professional, though.

When I opened the big wooden door I found a very friendly (warning: You will read this word often in the next few minutes, because seriously, these people were FRIENDLY!) woman who directed me upstairs and told me to, "Just follow the voices."

A momentary side trip to describe the art center so you can get the whole picture. It's an historic, supposedly haunted, red brick building fronted with beautiful white columns. The interior is wonderfully maintained, has great, sturdy staircases, wooden floors, and is filled with that distinctive 100 year old building smell. Very cool.

Anyway, when I reached the top of the stairs - BTW, 'follow the voices' was very good advice. The place was abuzz in conversation. - and gave the woman at the check in table my name, another woman, Suzanne Morgan Williams, a published author of 12 children's books and one of the main organizers of the conference, gave me a big smile and said, "Oh Tracy, I've been waiting to meet you."

No kidding.

That was my introduction to SCBWI. Talk about feeling welcome!

My face must have shown my surprise because she went on to explain, "I've been seeing your name for weeks now."

Oh. The benefits of having an 'A' last name. That didn't diminish the warmth of her welcome, though. I later learned that most of the people at the conference knew each other, too, so the fact that my name was new to her helped as well. Can I say again - friendly? I told her that this was my first conference and she practically lit up and went off about what a great group of people the Nevada chapter of SCBWI is, so friendly and willing to talk to everyone.

Yeah, I already picked up on that.

She enthusiastically encouraged me to jump right in and not be afraid to approach anyone. How could I possibly have been afraid anymore after a welcome like that?

I must say, that this 'first date' was off to a splendid start!

More of the reception and Saturday classes another time.

Adios!

Tomorrow's the Day

Tomorrow's the day! Tomorrow's THE DAY!! TOMORROW'S THE DAY!!!

My first writers conference.

I have that can't-think-of-anything-else, feel-like-a-little-kid-the-day-before-my-birthday feeling. I am trying to be grown up and keep my expectations and excitement in check, so if you look at me you might not be able to tell how totally jazzed I am. But that's all just pretend. Inside I am a four year old hyped up on kool-aid and Ho Ho's right now - except I'll be staying in a hotel room unaccompanied by an adult; they don't usually let four year olds do that. ; )

To quote a famed lyricist - Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow!

Adios!

So Call Me Crazy

As I am sure we have all noticed there are an abundance of competition reality shows out there. Have you ever watched your favorite - American Idol, So You Think You Can Dance, Top Chef, whatever - and thought about how hard it would be to have someone critique your effort like that? I mean, sometimes those judges can be harsh, right?

So call me crazy.

I actually love having my writing critiqued. I love looking at my work through other people's eyes. I especially appreciate it when I know someone is being 100% honest with me, whether they love or hate what I've done. Maybe it's because I started out singing and acting at a fairly young age and got used to 'getting notes' early on.

I remember sitting on the edge of the stage at the end of rehearsal and having the stage manger or assistant director hand me that little piece of paper with the list of what I needed to do better. It was definitely harder to hear the criticism when I was a teenager, but I got used to it. It didn't take long to understand that it wasn't personal, really. All the director was trying to do was have the best show possible. She/he was doing the whole cast and crew a favor by helping me to see what I obviously couldn't see from my perpsective. After all, I wanted the show to be good, too.

Anyway, the volume of critiques I've gotten through high school, college and into adult life has left me with a very thick skin and a very eager heart when it comes to hearing what others think of my work. I am happy to be grown up enough to know how to filter those opinions so I can use what I feel rings true and toss the rest.

Keeping that in mind you can understand how THRILLED I am to have recently registered to attend my first writer's conference. Aside from all the other cool stuff happening there I signed up for a one on one critique by one of the panel members of the first 15 pages of my manuscript and to have my *query letter discussed by the whole panel in front of all the conference attendees. I am stoked! This panel consists in part of a very successful young adult author, an agent who is near the top of my 'want to query' list, and the editor from Random House/Delacorte who handled the last two Harry Potter books for American distribution. Woo hoo! Even if they rip it to shreds it will be great, because then I'll know what I need to do to get better. If I was more computer literate I would even add a widget on my blog to count down the days until the conference.

So, go ahead. Call me crazy. Are you crazy, too? Or is it just me?





*A query letter is a dreaded monster of ancient date. Through the ages it has been known to cause normally sane, even reserved writers to end up on the brink of madness. How, you ask? By forcing them to distill their precious 50,000 - 80,000 (or even higher) word work of art into a one page summary which needs to include word count, genre, author credits/qualifications/contact information, a lovely paragraph of personalization to the agent/editor receiving it, and a synopsis of the book - all in about 300 words. Oh yes, and let's not forget that it's best if it reflects the mood and writing style of the actual novel. And of course, it must be absolutely perfect when it comes to grammar and typing. I dare you to ask any writer how many times they have rewritten their query. Personally, it has been so many times I don't even know the answer to that question.

Aren't people great?

You know those moments in life that may not seem like much at the time, but end up sticking with us? They stand out in our memories as if they have a perpetual spotlight shining on them, setting them apart from so many other experiences that just fade away as time passes.

I had an experience in junior high that caused me to make a conscious decision to be an independant person. I remember the exact conversation, every person involved and even some of the precise words that were spoken. I didn't realize at the time the impact that decision would have on the rest of my life.

Now, let me state that I think independence is a great quality. It's important to know we are capable people who can accomplish things on our own. However, as we all know, it is possible to have too much of a good thing.

At the times in my life when the being dependent/being independent balance was out of whack I have always erred on the side of being too independent. I can look back now and see times when I ought to have asked for help, but didn't - times when I should have let people into my life, but did it on my own - times when I could have offered some one help, but didn't notice at the time since it didn't occur to me that they might not prefer to handle it by themselves.

And when it comes to asking for help? Oh, heaven forbid I might be a burden to anyone. But I'm working on this, have been for years.

Anyway, I stepped outside my comfort zone yesterday. You should be proud of me.

I am close to finishing what I hope is my final edit on my manuscript before I send it out and try to snag an agent. Having never done this before I really want someone who knows what they are doing to look at it and let me know if they think it's ready for submission. Problem is I have no connections in the publishing world, so who can I ask?

Well, earlier this summer I won a 50 page critique from Jennifer Griffith, a published author. We exchanged a small handful of emails and she gave me some great feedback. That's a connection, right? Not much of one, but a connection.

So I sucked up all my fear of being a nuisance and asking too much of someone I barely know and emailed her to see if she might have time to help me out. Guess what? Not only was she willing to help me, a complete stranger, but she actually said she was hoping I might ask her to do this since she liked what she read earlier and wanted to know how the story ends!

When am I going to stop being surprised by how happy people are to help each other? This is just the most recent experience in a long line of experiences that keep proving this to me. Many of these lessons recently have come from ANWA, the writer's group I belong to, because I've had so many writing needs lately, but they are not the only ones who continue to teach me that people are as willing to help me as I am to help them.

Surprising, I know.

Aren't people great?

Thanks everyone.

Am I a "Writer" now?

Since I first began my attempt at writing a novel two years ago I have wondered if and when the time would come that I would feel comfortable labeling myself as a writer. Or should I say, a "Writer?"

I began this whole book project kind of on a lark. I was on a pretty intense reading binge and started to muse over the process one would go through in creating a novel. Having spent much of my life in various creative endeavors (singing, acting, playing musical instruments, writing music, etc.), I became curious about how similar or different writing a novel might be from other things I had already done. From there my next thought was, "How does one even come up the idea for a story? If I were going to write, what would I write about?" Once I asked that question it was as if a flood gate opened. A story line with characters so real and fully developed that I felt like I knew them came to my mind. I then owed it to them to try to tell their story. I guess you could say I had three more children that day since these characters started occupying my thoughts nearly as much as my four living, breathing, flesh and blood children do.

For me there was never really a question as to which genre I wanted to write. I love teenagers and have worked with them for most of my adult life so writing a Young Adult novel was the natural choice.

I set out on a new adventure.

It was challenging and thrilling, this act of bringing life to these people and their experiences. I gave up many hours of sleep, writing into the early hours of the morning. I became terribly aware of how much of the mechanics of writing - exact grammar and punctuation - I had forgotten over the years. I knew what I wanted to say, but fumbled with some of the tools I needed to use.

Relearning and learning became the task at hand. I read the blogs of literary agents. I studied writing books, websites and blogs. I participated in critiques groups. I even joined a writer's organization. Still I wasn't a Writer.

My first draft was done. It was then I decided that I would eventually try to find an agent and a publisher for this lark turned obsession. Rewriting and editing provided new and invigorating challenges. My work came closer and closer to being ready to send out into the world. A small handful of opportunities for seeking reprensentation presented themselves before I was really ready, but I took them anyway, just to get my feet wet in the querying pond.

Still I wasn't a Writer. Would I be one when I got an agent? When I had a publisher? When I won an award or hit a bestseller list?

Anyone who knows anything about writing knows that every writer has received lots of rejections. Stories are rampant in author's circles about how this bestseller was rejected by so many publisher's before one finally took it on, about how that well known author wrote so many books and looked for an agent for so many years before at last signing with someone. The moral of these stories being to keep trying, get used to being rejected. It happens to everyone.

I got my first rejection by email. That was okay. It didn't really count because I knew my manuscript wasn't ready to send out. The only reason I queried them to begin with is because they were having what they called a 'query holiday,' meaning no dreaded query letter needed to be written in order to submit to them. A writer only needed to email them the first five pages of their manuscript. They would simply look at the writing sample to decide if they were interested. The thought of not having to write a query letter was too good to pass up. I sent them my pages. They sent me a form rejection. I was not surprised.

My second rejection also came by email. This submission also happened more because of timing than because of being ready. An agent who had just returned to work after being on maternity leave for several months commented on her blog that her inbox was uncharacteristically empty, so if anyone had something to submit now was a good time. This time I thought my work might be good enough to get some interest, but I wasn't sure it was really 'there' yet. This time I heard back quickly. She expressed some interest, but said my manuscript was too similar to books she already represented, therefore she was passing. That was an encouraging rejection.

I polished and shined my work some more. I had more people read it and give critiques. During the polishing I came across the website of a publisher that accepted unsolicited submissions - no need for an agent. Although I do want to have an agent, I thought I would give this method a whirl. They only accepted paper submissions, so I printed up my pages, wrote a cover letter, packaged these up with a large self addressed stamp envelope since I wanted them to return my manuscript if they weren't interested (standard procedure), and a business sized SASE so they could send me a letter of request if they were interested. I signed, sealed, and sent off the dear package. I looked at the calendar to count out six to eight weeks (the time frame stated on their website for how long it usually takes them to respond) then added another couple of weeks to that since it was the holiday season and began patiently waiting.

I was surprisingly calm during the waiting. My heart didn't race every time I checked the mail. Some days I didn't even check the mail. The mailbox was still my friend. Mostly. It still had too many bills in it.

The allotted weeks went by. The extra weeks I added went by. Several more weeks passed. That was okay. No news is good news, right?

Finally, about four months after I mailed my sample to them, there it was in my mailbox. My large envelope. I was disappointed when I pulled it out and saw my name and address written in my own handwriting. Oh well. I walked back to my house wondering what kind of rejection letter would be included, a form rejection or a personalized rejection which would mean they had been at least interested enough to give me some personal feedback. Of course I opened this piece of mail first when I got home. There was no letter, just my manuscript. I felt slighted. No letter? Was it that bad? Didn't I even rate a preformulated paragraph saying "thanks, but no thanks?"

Well! Rude.

Then a week or two later it came. A letter. In their envelope. With their company name preprinted in the corner of that envelope. A letter written on their company letterhead. A form rejection. Unknowingly, they had sent me a badge of honor. My very own, printed in black and white kind that I could hold in my hands. Now I possesed something every great writer has - a real rejection letter.

One down.

Am I a Writer now?

Random Cuteness

I have not abandoned my blog. Really.

To me a very important part of living any dream is learning to enjoy the journey toward a goal. Closely related to that is learning to enjoy the journey of daily life. You know, take time be still, stop and smell the roses, and all that?

Well, part of my daily journey to work takes me through some beautiful farmland - crops growing, cattle grazing, the bounty of the earth...ahhhh. I love it. One thing I especially love is seeing the cows. Cows have a very high cute factor. I can scarcely see one without feeling a bit mushy and having to suppress a silly impulse to talk with a higher pitched voice than usual. Kind of like when you see a baby animal. Baby cows? Don't even get me started.

Anyway, it is almost a guarantee that every day as I drive to work I will see at least one cow adding exponentially to it's cuteness by slowly rubbing it's head back and forth across the barbed wire of the fence. I can sense the deep satisfaction of the feeling of a really good scratch exuding from that animal and it's all I can do to keep myself from stopping my car right then and there, traipsing in my skirt and dress shoes through the ditch that separates the pasture from the highway, and giving that cow a hearty scratch and a big hug.

It's a lovely little moment I get to relish virtually every day. Thank you, cows.

I'd love to hear about some of your favorite little moments of the day. Let's share some warm fuzzies.

Do a Good Turn - The Last Week

My, my. Can you tell by my week long silence that it's tax season and I work for an accountant? Time available to blog has been pretty much nonexistent. Now, rather than do a day by day accounting of good turns, which would make for a lengthy post, I'll do a week in review type of post.

EVENTS - Spread the love with sugar, Do talk to strangers, Shopping cart Nazi returns, Remember to love your family, too

Oh, the power of junk food. Alas. Without planning to, I ended up with three days of sugar related good turns. I bought donuts for my class. I bought candy for another class that joined us on Friday morning for a little friendly competition and, because they were 4/$1, I bought boxes of Valentine Conversation hearts to share with people in my office. That's a lot of sugar, but it was fun and all the recipients enjoyed it.

One of my favorite things this week was a conversation I had with a young girl in the post office. She was probably nine or ten and was in line all by herself with three envelopes and a handful of change. In all fairness, she started the conversation, but once did, I really went for it. I wanted to talk to her, but didn't want to say anything first since that may have caused her a moral dilemma if it had bee drilled into her not to talk to strangers. I was quite happy when she turned around in line and asked, "Where do you live?"

That might seem like an ordinary question, but this was a work related trip to the post office and the town where I work is small and only has one post office. It's a safe bet when you're standing in line there that the answer to where someone lives is going to be "Colusa, " but she asked anyway. You gotta love that. Her follow up question was even better. "Do you collect anything?"
"No, not really. Do you?"
"I collect Beanie Babies."
"Cool. How many do you have?" Now, remember, she's a "collector."
"Two."
"Oh. How long have you been collecting them?"
"Since I was born. My Grandma gave me my first one as a birth present."

By this time I am totally in love with this girl. Who acquires two of something over a lifetime and yet calls themselves a collector? To her "collector" spoke of the importance place these two Beanie Babies hold in her heart. It reminded me of a question posed on one of the blogs I follow. "When did you know you were a writer?" Several of the comments left in response were some variation of, "I'm still not sure I would call myself a writer. I think when I'm published I'll be able to say that." So many of us are hesitant to claim a title, no matter how important something is in our lives, until we receive validation from somewhere outside of us. Why do we do that? Why can't we be a collector if we only collect two in a lifetime, or a writer, even if we're never published?

Thank you for that lesson, little girl in the post office. BTW, the rest of the conversation was equally delightful.

Okay, the shopping cart thing. I am not a collector of pet peeves, but I am realizing I do have one - abandoned shopping carts. A couple of times this week I have corralled carts that someone else has ditched in inappropriate places, like I have mentioned doing earlier in the month. This doesn't bother me too much if a store's parking lot designers are stingy with the number of parking places they are willing to devote to cart corrals. No one wants to walk a half a mile to return their cart. However, the store where I do the majority of my shopping is most generous in their allocation of corrals. Seriously, if you park in the main area of the lot you don't have to go further than two parking places away to find a cart return slot. Two places! How hard is that? I'll allow there may be occasional situations that justify ditching a cart in this particular parking lot, but I mean very occasional.

I know, I know, I just need to let go. This is certainly nothing worth getting my knickers in a twist over, but is it too much to ask for people to take a little personal responsibility and have some consideration for others who may actually want to park in the place they so rudely render useless by the abandoning of their carts?

But, I cannot in good conscience count returning other's carts as a good deed if I'm being a cart Nazi, now can I? I must have kind thoughts of those who will come after and benefit from my action, not acid thoughts of those who have come before and done this selfish thing.

Okay, I'm done now.

Last, but not least in this week's wrap up is remembering to love our families, too. Sometimes, well okay, way too often it's easy to see someone so much that we almost stop seeing them. Obviously we love them or we wouldn't plan their meals, do their shopping, wash their clothes, clean their house, plan our lives around their schedules, etc., etc., right? But, do we remember to actually tell them we love them and sometimes do the extra things that show we love them? This week has provided opportunities to do some of those extra little things, culminating tonight with hosting a family dinner for sixteen people in honor of my son who reports tomorrow to begin his service in the Air Force. (Go, Thomas.) Honoring this Eagle Scout son is a very fitting end to this month of doing a good turn daily.

COST - Donuts, candy and mostly dinner costs - about $80
EFFORT - Some activities, not much. Other activities quite a bit.
TIME - Total for the whole week -about ten hours
WOULD I DO IT AGAIN? - Yes, but I'd spread it out over a longer time period if I could.

Stay tuned for one or two final month in review posts next week.

Do a Good Turn - Day 24

EVENT - Compliment day

Yesssss! Things went much better, thank you. I was able to deliver Day 23's flowers and share a meaningful, wordless hug with a young mother showing great grace in trying times.

Here's your tip for the day - Actually saying the nice things you often only think about people makes them quite happy. Just so you know.

It was fun causing smiles. I also got a nice payoff. I told another young mom (not the same one mentioned above) how much I appreciate her gift for being so authentically herself when it can be so easy, especially at her age, to try to squeeze yourself into some mold of what you think you should be or do. She truly is a breath of fresh air. When I told her this, I got to hear a brief version of how she came to possess this great quality. It was an inspiring story that I likely never would have heard had I not taken the time to give her that compliment.

Oh, here's another bonus tip for you - Positive energy breeds positive energy. No kidding.

COST - Absolutely free
EFFORT - None really
TIME - I'm not sure. I didn't time how long I talked to people.
WOULD I DO IT AGAIN? - Oh yeah.