Happy Birthday!

I have to take a moment to scream, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" to one of my dearest girl friends in the world, Rochelle Spears.


*Confessions*

1. I don't have a bunch of friends. Let me explain. There are people who come into your life, stick around for a while, make an impression and leave. These people are amazing and I don't discount them at all. They are my friends. Knowing each of them has added a small sliver to the pie of me. But ... they haven't been there through EVERYTHING. Those are the girls I'm talking about.

2. Girl friends frighten me. It's a Post Traumatic High School Disorder, but girls ... they kind of freak me out. I have four brothers, three sons, and six nephews. I may physically emit a hormone that repels other estrogen driven life forms away from me. I am an estrogen island surrounded by an ocean of testosterone.

3. Giggles and Drama. I can write a mean giggle attached to a sassy, spunky, dramatic YA heroine! In my non-fiction life, I don't do drama and when I giggle, it's often turns into snorts and that's just not pretty.

Given all of the above, you can see how SHOCKING it is that Rochelle has been in my life for fifteen years! We've been through dating, engagements, weddings, divorces, babies, cancer, more babies, mid-life crises (I had mine at 28), moves and movies. She is the closest thing to a sister I have AND she is my cheerleader. When writer's self doubt starts surfacing, Rochelle is one of the people I can count on to smack me between the eyes with reality, usually with her published scrapbooking book.

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the fiercest friend/sister/scrapper I know!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROCHELLE!!!!

Critique Partners, Fairy Godmothers & Glass Slippers

It's true.

I have critique partners that are Fairy Godmothers. They whip out their magic wands masquerading around as Word Comments and take my manuscript from "pretty good" to "HOLY FREAKING COW!" This transformation is usually with a tweak here or what if there.
No mice, well, none that I know of.
No pumpkins.
Just amazing pixie dust thoughts sprinkled in the margins of my Word Doc.
When I first started studying the craft of writing, I desperately wanted to find a core group of people to chat with.  People who made me laugh, knew how to write, would push me to tears and then hold the tissue as I blew my nose.
The only problem was I had NO idea where to find these people. I tried boards, read where other authors found their magic CP’s (that’s critique partner, took me a couple jaunts on google to find that out). I may have placed a Craigslist ad, but I swear I won't admit to it if you ask me in person.

I really was a bit on the desperate side.
So where did I find my girls?
Twitter.

What????

Come here. 
Yes, closer to the monitor.

Twitter.
I really wish there was a magic link to give you, but it took about eight months for me to get to know, laugh, chat, and finally, find my fairy godmothers.
Your book is your baby, right?
All the mom’s in the house, how long did it take you to find your babysitter?
When you left the first night, you worried the whole evening. It’s the same with critique partners. You have to build a trust to expose yourself and then be in a place where you respect their opinions and can apply them to your WIP.
I love my fairy godmothers and I hope one day you are as lucky to find a set as well.
Don’t give up.
Be patient.
And one day, Bibdidi-Bobbidi-Boo you too, will have a group of fairy godmothers!

In the meantime, another great resources that may help you meet possible FGM’s
YALitChat
You can follow them on Twitter as well search #YALITCHAT

given the last two posts, I think it's time to take the kids to Disneyland

It's Official...I'm a Writer.

It took a day to sink in...I'm a writer.

I started the current WIP last year, but I wasn't a writer.
I study and cried and revised and cried and revised with my teacher, CJ Redwine, but I wasn't a writer.
I lined up the beta's for the first half of critiques for WIP, but I wasn't a writer.
I built the website, made friends and "connections" on twitter and Facebook, but I wasn't a writer.
I launched the blog, had business cards made up (mom wanted proof I was working), but I wasn't a writer.
I quit the day job in September, but I wasn't a writer.

I donated a bunch of old work clothes to a local charity, but I wasn't a writer.

I set up my office, installed plot boards, time lines, strategies, but I wasn't a writer.

There's a massive excel file that even my left brain husband is afraid to open with the year of my writing life carefully outlined for him, but I wasn't a writer.

All these things and I wasn't a writer until Friday. 

WHAT!!!

Yep, Fridays I volunteer at my 1st grader's library as their class librarian.  Budget cuts to the fine arts program translated to a roaming school librarian that is shared among the several elementary schools in the district.  A note was sent home at the beginning of the year that the kids were not going to be able to check out books from this amazing school library because there was no librarian available. 

I know!!!

Don't get me started on the stupidity of budget cuts and then the confusion that our world "ranking" is sinking like a scuttled ship.

The parents joined together and every classroom now has a parent/librarian.  But that's not how I knew I was a writer.
On Friday, Jacob and his friends were discussing what their parents did for a living.  There were accountants, doctors, firefighters, businessmen etc.  Then it was Jacob's turn. 
"What's your dad do Jacob?"
"He's a Realtor."
"And you're mom?"
"She's a writer."

My heart burst at the seams. I was a writer, my 7 year old said so!!!

My delight pulled at the corners of my lips, but I kept it under wraps. I didn't want to embarass him or make a scene by squealing or spinning around the library like a goof ball. A deep breath, a giddy hand and I just checked out another book for another child.  So many things were racing through my head:

Would I disappoint Jacob?

What if I never sold anything?

Doubt tumbled over What if and....

As I put the little girl's book in the classroom crate I looked at the the author... it was Judy Blume's TALES OF A FOURTH GRADE NOTHING.  It was like Judy Blume was standing in that library with me, smaking me up aside the head herself!!! I was holding in my hand one of the first books I read that made me think maybe, just maybe... I could be a writer too!