Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Get Down Little Lady

This is how we do it...

Be warned: now that I have figured out the video aspect of blogger, there will be more.

(And hopefully they won't all turn out sideways...)

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Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Editing a Manuscript
Last month I submitted a brief query and two stories for consideration to a small publishing house.

Yesterday, I pulled my own self-addressed envelope from my mailbox and felt my heart sink. I've heard that phone calls are what you get when a publisher wants to pursue you and SASE's are what you get with a rubber-stamped "Thanks but no thanks," note.

It was a little company that I'd felt oddly compelled to submit to and had held out this sliver of hope that they'd show interest, that my gut had pointed me in the right direction. Yet, there was that thin envelope with my own handwriting, sitting in my mailbox.

Still, I opened it, skimmed briefly, right to the bottom line. What's this? Why are they asking me to include a SASE, I just did that, didn't I?

Wait. Go back. Read the whole thing.

"After a review of the material you sent to us, it seems that it might be the kind of book we would consider publishing. We would like to take a look at the full manuscript."

What?

I handed it to my husband as I walked through the door.

This is it. I get a shot. Still a long one, as I'm sure that the letter I received is a form letter and that I am not unique to this process, that they have slush piles full of quality work - ok, maybe not all "quality" work, but there must be some.

How do I get mine to stand out?

I'm at "work" today, weeding through my manuscript (what's left of it now that I've gutted it of some of my weakest stories) and I'm having a mild panic attack at the prospect of picking, choosing, editing and rewriting this thing to a point that it's actually something I can submit to these nice people who have so kindly asked to see my "book."

A book? Me?

Oh, that would be so nice.

Wish me luck.

(And if anyone has a story of mine that they'd like to suggest I include, or suggest that I edit - by all means, I'm listening...)

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Friday, January 18, 2008
Office Space
I'm at "my" office today. Terribly busy, I assure you.

Things accomplished thus far:

Applied for no less than five jobs on
Monster.

Emailed the saga of our unemployment hearings to friends.

Finalized our plans for
gametime.

Went to the grocery store to buy a salad for lunch.

Returned with salad, seltzer water...and a bag of fat free chocolate mint cookies.

Read the packaging on the bag as I polished off the cookies.

Went to their website and ordered twenty bucks worth of fat free chocolate-chocolate chip cookies. (Yes, they're really that good...and good for you too.)

And now I'm contemplating spending more time in the blogosphere.

I might be overpaid for this.

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Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Because Things Aren't Always So Heavy
We're sitting on the potty last week, well, my son is, and I am crouched on the floor in front of him. The things you do for those you love. Squatting in front of a toilet, holding the hems of a child pants so that they don't slip down past his bare heels (he hates that. He's very OCD in that way. All clothing must fit just right, no twisting or sliding allowed,) while he attempts to go potty.

Anyhow, we're sitting/squatting and I'm holding his pants just above his little white feet and I make the simple comment, Oh, what nice piggy toes.

No they're not. He's quick to correct me.

They're not? Why I think they're perfectly nice.

No, he says again and begins swinging his piggies up to my chin. They're mean.

This makes me chuckle and I let go of his pants and my squatting faulters. Now, with his pants all drooping down over his feet, he jumps off of the toilet, finished or not, and proceeds to tug at his pants, pulling himself together, underwear first. He pauses. Looks down as though to inspect.

What's wrong? I ask.

My peanut is being mean, He explains, very serious, very stern, then continues to pull up his pants and walks away, leaving me now laying on the cool tiled floor, laughing.

Sidenote - it's been nearly a month now and the little man is officially rocking the underwear all day long. Life is good.

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Monday, January 07, 2008
In the Meantime

Pretty Dress, originally uploaded by Mellahoney.

Once upon a time, I could actually spend quiet moments mulling over which glittering part of my day to bring here and write about. Not so much lately. It's four-thirty in the morning. I've been at work for over five hour and can hardly see straight, let alone stand for very long at this computer (yes, I have to stand at the desk computer's here...)

I am officially longing for the "good 'ol days" - when diapers and kitchen clutter were the biggest of my worries. When I was seeing more clearly the all of the ordinary magic of motherhood, wifehood, life.

I trust I'll make my way back there, soon enough. Soon enough. But, for now - only this. Because she makes me smile. Thank goodness for lighthearted children to keep us from taking things too seriously. For dropping forks and grinning over spilled cups of juice. For fervently denying the poop in their diapers, no matter how bad they smell. For potty-training and cartoon character underwear and the innocent blurting-out of casual observations ("Momma, my peanut is cold.") For imaginary monster's and made-up games of blanket-head and bare feet pounding out rain dances for crackers across my kitchen floor.

For giving me a thousand happier things to dwell on as the final few hours of the graveyard shift unwinds.

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Friday, January 04, 2008
Oh-Eight
For 2008

1. Peace (in the midst of upheaval)
2. Patience (when a good night's sleep is a distant memory and small nuisances appear as mountains)
3. Strength (to do what must be done)
4. Persistence (to do it all over again)


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