Never Ending Mind Tape

Whew. Getting over a crisis weekend. Not a real crisis crisis, but one of those crisis of confidence that happens every now and then. DH was in Brazil all week, so I had the monkeys to myself, which didn't help matters. Then I started reading about Stephenie Meyer's success with her new release, and Jay Asher's upcoming book Thirteen Reasons Why which is already a success and some of my agents other clients who are getting starred reviews, etc. and the suck monster just took over. It's not a case of sour grapes per se; it's that tape that runs over and over in your head saying "Why are you even trying to do this? You'll never compete. You pretty much suck. You might as well give up now."

Anyone who writes will recognize this tape. So instead of writing, I started reading Laurie Halse Anderson's Twisted, which I'm very much enjoying. Next up is Judith Clarke's One Whole and Perfect Day. Then, after enough time had passed I opened the file with my WIP in it and started writing the whole thing over in first person. As I read it, a strange thing happened - I realized that it didn't suck all that badly. Okay, so it's no Printz Award winner, but I think in the right editorial hands, it could compete. Or at least not totally suck.

On this date: 1961, East Germany began building the Berlin Wall.

The What? Award

Just got back from Parent's Night at daycamp. For the finale (after two hours of skits!) they give out camp awards. Now, T got the camp award as Most Athletic. Yup. Could have seen that one coming a mile away, as he never actually walks anywhere, prefering to run, jump and leap his way everywhere.

But J got the award for...Mellowest Camper. The kid who just rolls with the punches and is never phased by anything. Huh? Is this the same boy who has separated the moulding from his door frame because he slams it in a fit of rage when he's angry? Who just the other day got busted for breaking his brother's plastic sword over his knee because he was mad? I don't get it.

His kindergarten teacher once told me that he probably uses up his "good" at school, and is freed up to be irritating once he comes home. "Where would you rather he be good?" she asked. I suppose. But I wouldn't mind a little good here.

On this date: In 1969, the Manson cult kills five people.

To Turtle or Not To Turtle?

We're thinking about getting a couple of these:

T and I spent about an hour at the pet store the other day, picking the guy's brain about caring for turtles, tanks, food, filters and all the things that a $14 turtle needs. Well, it will run a couple of hundred dollars when we're all through. But that's not the problem.

The problem is that these things live more than 25 years. T is 7, so you can do the math. I was asking him who was going to take care of them while he was at college (me, he says), and who was going to clean their cage while he was traveling the world after college (you, he says).

Now, I'm not ashamed to say that we timed BHD on purpose.


We got him when our youngest was 4, and dogs live somewhere in the neighborhood of 14 years, so everyone should...leave us an empty nest at about the same time. Now, if we decide to do the turtle thing, we're going to have these pets for a very long time. I'm not saying we shouldn't do it, but it is a lot to consider. T is absolutely obsessive over turtles and has been for quite a while so I'd like to be able to get a couple, but I'm dragging my feet. Why in the world do turtles live so long? We were trying to sell him on a tortoise instead (less cage cleaning and set up), but then I saw that they live for 75 or 100 years. These aren't pets - they're things you leave to other people in your will.

On this date: In 1974, Nixon resigns.

Cat Women

So my BFF called me last night, pretty upset because her beloved 16 year old cat was really sick. She was at the emergency vet waiting to hear if Vallie was going to make it through the night. After I hung up, I started to think about all of the women I know who have had to go through this lately. If you've read the blog for awhile, you remember that we had to put my 17 year old cat to sleep a few months back, and my other 17 year old cat is slowing way down. I remember Linda D. had to go through this even more recently. Another gal from my son's school had to deal with this right before school got out for summer.

I think I have it figured out. We are all women of a certain age (meaning that we are watching the big 4-0 recede in the rearview mirror), and all of these cats were pretty old when they died. Which means that we all got them when we were just out of school, probably with our first real apartment or house and feeling like we were finally mature enough to care for something more complicated than a plant, but not a husband or - ack! - kids. These were our first shot at caring for something living, and lo and behold, they went on to live to 97 or so in cat years. Even though it's a bummer to have to go through the death of a cat that has been with you throughout your whole growing-up phase, it seems as though in the end, we all did a pretty good job.

BTW - Vallie made it through, and hopefully with meds has some good times left in her.

On this date: In 1971, the Bee Gees had their first No. 1 hit with How Can You Mend A Broken Heart.

P is for...

On Saturday morning I went to Costco and got the Big Hairy Dog some of his favorite treats. Free range bully sticks. For those of you who don't have dogs, bully sticks are the dried...business end of the steer. I didn't find it particularly funny, and BHD didn't find it particularly funny (he just grabbed one and sat in the corner gnawing on it), but 10 year old J got hold of the package and collapsed in a heap of laughter. He finally showed me what was so funny. On the ingredients list was only one item: steer pizzle. Apparently, "pizzle" is one of the world's funniest words if you are a 10 year old boy.

Now, with all of the flap over scrotums with this year's Newbery winner, I'm wondering if "pizzle" will be on the radar. I'm going to have to try to work it into an MS somehow.

On this date: In 1945, the US dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima.

Shower Epiphanies Part Deux

Jay over at Discomermaids was talking about shower epiphanies the other day. Maybe it was his post, or maybe I was just bored, but I had one this morning in between the rinse and repeat.

I think I've gotten a handle on the first sentence of my YA. I always love great opening lines and want one to encompass the entire theme. I'm also going to rewrite it in first person (at least the first couple of chapters) to see if it brings me closer to the character. I still haven't gotten Lexi out of jail, but I think I know what is going to happen in the next couple of sentences, so that's a start.

J is yelling at me to go an play Mancala, so I have to jet. We've been listening to Cat's in the Cradle by Harry Chapin from the Shrek soundtrack (I can't listen to it without weeping), so I'm trying to be more in the moment.

On this date: In 1892, Lizzie Borden's parents are found dead in their house.

Get Out of Jail...Free?

Ack! I can't seem to get Lexi out of jail. I thought I had a plan to get my MC out, but everything I try isn't working. I'll write a paragraph or two, realize that it's junk and erase the whole thing. So right now, she's sitting in a cold white room with a two-way mirror and no way to get her sprung. See, it's a case of mistaken identity (and identical twins) - she's not a bad girl. I've got a call into a friend's husband who just happens to be on the bomb squad. I've given him a couple of scenarios and hopefully he can point me in the right direction according to police procedure. Fingerprints? Felonies? Free on bail? I sure hope I can get her out and move on because it's driving me crazy.

On this date: In 1971, Sonny and Cher debuts.