Mediocrity, Thy Name Is..

Diana.

It's probably super wrong to admit, though I've been saying it all semester, but I really haven't tried very hard this term. I mean, I've barely studied at all and I still got the same grades I would had I tried. Now to be clear, the grades are the same but that doesn't mean the grades are stellar. See the title.

So it occured to me, why stress myself out when I get the same results anyway, just without the ulcer.

Then I realized it's not just school, it's everything.

Take my hair, for example. I get the same effect whether I flip and style and mousse and flat iron as I do when I just blowdry. Or keeping house. I threaten and plead and bargain but it's always marginally kempt. Why, why, why, do I run myself into the ground just to achieve the same results I get when I hardly try?

Anyway, I have managed a solid C in Chemistry and I was okay with that until my Professor told me I'm actually pulling a B so if I made a B on my final, I'd walk away with said B. I walked into that building calm and collected, thinking all I had to do was keep my C. After his declaration, I was a hot mess but I tried.

I'll bet I barely kept my C.

You Got The Write Stuff, Baby...

Well last week, I thought I'd gotten an honest to goodness response to my manuscript until it was explained to me that the company in question was a step up from a vanity press. Here's a short explanation to aid in mutual understanding:

A vanity press is a self publishing companies where the writer edits (or pays for the service) their work, creates the cover art, and pays to have to book printed which they then have to market and sell. The writer does all the work and maybe recoups their printing costs if they have a workable marketing strategy that they then, work.

The company a step up provides an editor, designs the cover art and prints the book. But the writer still pays the cost upfront and has to market and sell the book. Again, unless the writer knows how to market said book, they could be out five grand and have five hundred copies of their book sitting in the garage.

Neither option appeals to me at this point, even if I had the money. I think I'll just keep writing. Maybe when I'm dead, my work will be discovered and my posterity will receive the financial gain.

It could happen.

What's In A Nom-De-Plume...

As I was drifting off to sleep last night a random thought popped into my head: there's already an author by the name if Diana Davidson. Okay, it's Diane Davidson and there's a Mott in between, but that's still really close to my name. I think she would probably have the right to keep it because she was here first. That being the case, I need a pen name.

I had thought about it once before and my favorite professor mentioned it as well but what would I use. I've considered D.P. Davidson or D.M. Davidson. I've also considered something completely different than my own name, though I can't remember any right now.

However the name that occured to me last night is a variation of my own name, something that's close enough that one can still find me but different enough to set me apart. Suprisingly I really, really like it.

It's Ana Davis.

Habitat For Humanity = Pain...

Mr. D and I went house building yesterday. It was AWESOME (I'm not yelling, I'm emphasizing). We are sore and a little sunburned and totally happy. There's nothing like building a house to build your self-esteem.

I spent most of the day on a ladder with my arms over my head installing soffit. No I did not make that word up, that's what it's called. Yes, I know it's a valid concern because I do make words up. Soffit is that material under your eaves and overhangs. Eaves and over hangs are the sticky-outy parts of your roof.

As I was saying, I spent the day with my arms over my head. Here's a funny sideline: when you spend a lot of time with your arms over your head, they get tired but when you finally put them down they float up so you walk around looking like a zombie. Add the fact that you're sore from squatting to pick up heavy packages of shingles so you walk stiffly and are moaning from the pain and you really DO look like a zombie. It's quite comical.

Mr. D spent the day on the roof, roofing. He'd only ever done it once, when he was 15 so it was kinda new for him. He had a blast. They had to kick him off twice because he wasn't drinking enough water but as soon as they would let him, he was up there again.

The family whose home we were building were out there as well as a large group of people from his work. That made the experience even greater. So if you ever have the opportunity to help build a house, go do it.

Then when people ask what you did this weekend you can moan "ahhhhhhhh" before stiffly limping away.

How Many Writer's Does It Take To Form A Group...

At least three and the meeting isn't very long.

I went to my first writers group meeting thing last Saturday. Actually, it was the first meeting for all of us so I understand I am one of the founding members. That's actually kind of cool. Now having said that, I hope this thing takes off like a firestorm.

As I said, our first meeting was last Saturday and there were three of us. Our next meeting is in two weeks and there will be six. We've already doubled our membership and need a larger meeting place. Wow!!! Does that count as a firestorm?

Here's where I give you a little info. It will only be a little because I am the least informed of the group so I just smile and nod. We are a new chapter of The American Night Writer's Association (ANWA), a group started out of Arizona, for LDS women writer's. Any LDS woman who writes (this includes journaling) is welcome to come. The goal is to sharpen our writing skills, mentor and encourage each other. Someday, if we get big enough, our chapter leader said we may even have seminars with more well known authors.

This was the part where I smiled and nodded (I was just happy to be there).

So my LDS women author friends, come join us. And bring snacks.

My Name Is Diana and I'm A Twi-hard...

I love Twilight, the entire series. My kid sister introduced me and I will ever revere her name for pushing them on me. Seriously, she guilt tripped me into reading the first one, but I love them and have never looked back. I read them every year and keep them in a drawer next to my bed. I also have the soundtracks and every DVD thus far. I jealously guard them and I don't feel bad about it.

What I love the most about them is the fact that Stephanie Meyer wrote such a fabulous story without a lot of crap. I have heard critics ridicule the notion that abstinence among teens in unrealistic, but how many teens (and adults) have absolutely fallen in love with these books. Apparently a story can be compelling and still retain certain values. She is my hero.

I love J.K. Rowling (writer of Harry Potter, for those of you living under a rock) for the same reason. They have written amazing stories with minimal (if any) garbage.

Now there are other critics who scream, "they're promoting witchcraft!" and other such dark opinions but these are also the people who take exception to Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. It's called fantasy, people! Get a grip. I know where I stand on things so don't worry your crazy little heads about the message I'm sending.

I will probably never be a top selling author but if given the opportunity to publish my books, I will never have cause to regret anything I have written. You don't need garbage to sell a story so if you use garbage, the story wasn't that good to begin with. Just sayin'.

Can I get a witness? 

Ju Got Some 'Splainin To Do...

When I started my educational pursuits, nigh on two thousand aught eight, my goal was nursing school. Since then I have written a book (and have ideas for several more) and I've found I have a passion for it. My loved ones have mentioned that my eyes light up when I talk about writing and I confess, I feel a brightness coming from within whenever I think about all of the lovely stories that I plan to write. Because of said joy, I have changed my goals just a smidgen. Nursing school is now plan B.

Mr. D. asked me, a few nights ago, what the point of the last few semesters were, if I have changed course. I didn't have an answer at that point but have since found it. The point, my dear Mr.D, is this... I have learned things in those classes that make my stories so much better. I have been inspired by teachers, classmates and the subjects themselves. I have seen a way to weave reality into an engaging story and I have seen myself become...more.

Even if I never get to nursing school, I won't ever see those classes as wasted effort. I see them as doorways to what I am capable of.

Now, if I can just find a publishing house that feels the same way.

Ree-JECTED!! Again...

I'm getting used to receiving rejection letters. Got my fourth one last week. I wouldn't have known if I hadn't looked in the junk file (Take that publisher who shall not be named!). So it's back to the thing where you draw up new plans (the word escapes me just now).

Anyway, I'm not giving up I'm just changing course. Any ideas?

I know I Shouldn't Complain...

Because I did it to myself.

I was reading a friends blog today and she was commenting on the fact that all four of her children are now in school and thus she has free time, or rather, kid-free time. Her children are the same ages as mine, within months, and I have to admit, I'm feeling a little bit jealous. Had I not decided to homeschool my children, I would be in the same empty boat.

What was I thinking?! I could be doing so many kid free activities right now. I could be studying for exams without "MOM! Eeny's closing the door in my face!" or "MOM!! Tell Meeny to stop being...a meanie!" I tell you what, if I ever felt it seemed like a good idea at the time, this is one of those times.

As I said, I can't complain because this was a choice that I made. Would I do it again? It depends on the day. Is it worth it? That remains to be seen. Would I give it up for more free time? I think not.

So enjoy your kid-free time, Mom's. You've earned it. And while you're at it, enjoy some for me, too.

The Whippin' Called Chemistry...

Do you ever feel like you truly understand what's goin' on, you get why this equals that and why you need some of this to make some of the other? That's how I felt about Chemistry.

I felt like I was totally getting it. I understood the formulas, the conversion process, cations, anions, covalent bonds, everything. And then I took my first test.

I guess I don't know as much as I thought I did.

Potential Blurb #2

"Lots of people have issues with their step-parents but the beauty of adulthood is the ability to put distance between you and them. I had been biding my time, only able to endure the last four years because I knew, eventually, I would be free of the man. Except that isn’t what happened. I had left but he wasn’t going to let me get far and he was going to great lengths to bring me back."

Just a Quick Note

I have posted the first chapter of PUSH to www.worthy of publishing.com where anyone who would like to can go and read it. When I get 20 hits, I will add another chapter. Also, unless you have an account, you can't leave a review so if you do decide to read it please leave a review here or send me a Facebook message.

When you  go to the website, click on "most recent". I'm closer to the bottom of the page now. Anyway, Dear Reader(s), hope you enjoy.

Love Ya!!!

Let's Try This Again

Once upon a time there was a woman named Diana (that's me) and she started a blog. Now Diana isn't what you would call a rocket scientist but she thinks she writes some pretty clever things. When she looks over past posts, she still laughs out loud. She doesn't get out much.

At any rate, Diana started a blog to chronicle her path to being published, her issues with ham, as well as some random but relevant rants but she never got any comments on these posts. She started to think she was the only one who ever read them and she started to feel sad.

Then one day, a woman named Julianne told her that she had tried to post a comment but the mean computer wouldn't cooperate. Diana thought maybe the computer was just pms-ing until Julianne told her a few weeks later that the computer still would not allow a comment. "What could be the problem?" Diana wondered but she isn't very bright as mentioned before.

Finally, Diana's sister in law (the one who taught Diana's brother how to walk upright and not drool -love you, Bro) said, "Diana, I read the post about your computer three times it was so funny but when I tried to comment, the computer wouldn't let me." Diana was overjoyed that someone actually read her blog but then she thought, "this posting tyranny must end." So she and Gwen fiddled with the settings and finally VIOLA! Diana posted a hello to herself.

Now Diana can rest easy knowing that two people read her blog and that, should they choose to, they can comment on her hilarious wit and relevent rants.

The End

The Racket Called College

OMGosh!!!

I won't complain about tuition because compared to the universities it is nothing but I will complain about everything else.

First there are the books. Hundreds of dollars for new ones, almost hundreds of dollars for used ones that you can, maybe, sell back at the end of the semester. They also have this new thing where even if you do buy used, you have to buy an access code to do certain activities online. These things can be almost $100.00!!! Then there is the "binder ready" option, 500 loose leaf pages that you have to buy a three ring binder to put it in and the school will not buy those back. They are still a good hundred dollars.

Then, there are the lab manuals. The two I had to purchase this year are well less than the one I had to buy for Anatomy and Physiology. However, I used that manual for two semesters. You cannot buy those used.

New for me this semester, lab equipment. Goggles (vented, wrap around, not cheap), a lab coat (thankfully, I can use this huge, white, mens dress shirt I got for five bucks at Target), gloves (no latex for me, thanks. I break out.), lens paper, and microsope slides, masking tape, sharpies and... colored pencils? I do have to make sure my bacterium is acurrately drawn in my lab manual. Seriously.

While I'm on the subject, let me share this little tidbit. When I am trying to remember what a particular microbe or muscle or organ looks like, I associate it with things it resembles (to me). Because of this, I don't eat brisket (latissimus dorsi) or other foods I have unfortunately associated.

Anyway, I was looking at parasites and protazoa last night and realized I make these food issues myself (duh). For example, Bacilli looks like purple vermicelli. Spirilli look like Big League Chew, yogurt cultures look like poorly spun cotton candy and protazoans look like rice, green colored sugar and speckled bubbles.

Oh well. Whatever gets me an A, I guess.

Chin Up, Lass

I got my second rejection notice today. I was told it wasn't what they were looking for but they did tell me the title was excellent. At least I have that going for me.

I'll send my manuscript to another publisher next month. I'm hoping to have an LDS publishing company pick up my book. They won't pay as much as a larger company but that's not my aim. However, there aren't too many LDS companies out there so I may be trying other companies before too much longer.

The Moral Of the Story Is...

Back up all of your files IMMEDIATELY. I learned this the hard way.

I went to get on my laptop yesterday morning and all I saw was a calming blue screen. This was not good. I turned if off then on again and got the same screen. It was a little less calming that time. So I called Mr. D and told him what I saw. He asked if I'd turned it off and on again. I said I had and he asked if I was sure. Feeling a little irritable I sharply reminded him "I know how to turn off a dang computer!" Then for his entertainment, I turned it off and on again. Same screen, even less calming. So he said, "I don't know what to tell you." I called my brother.

He asked if I had turned the computer off and on again. I said yes. He asked if I was sure. What the...? "I know how to turn off a damn computer!" I snapped indelicately. Then for his entertainment, I turned it off then on again. Same blue screen, now more enraging than calming. "Sounds like your hardware's shot," he declared.

Noooooooooo.

I took it to Best Buy and thankfully they did not ask me if I had turned it off and on again. Instead I was told that my computer didn't even recognize that I had a hard drive. I asked if that meant that all of my files were gone. He said, "maybe." I said, "don't say maybe! Maybe is bad! I have files I haven't backed up yet. No maybe!"

He pulled out my hard drive and found that my files could be retieved. Yay! Then he said that I could get a new hard drive and have my files trasferred to it but he was pretty sure that the mother board to my laptop was shot. Boo! He said he could do a diagnostic test that would cost me $70.00 but if it was the mother board he would have to send it out for repair that would cost around $400.00.

Let's do the math:
New hard drive $80.00
Transfer fee $80.00
Diagnostic fee $70.00
Mother board repair $400.00
That comes to roughly $630.00.
I need my computer. I need those files. My classes start Monday.

I bought a new computer and called it a day.

Anyone Up for Thumb Twiddling

I'm in an unfortunate phase of my existence right now called "Two Weeks Until School Starts". It's when there's too much time to do nothing but not enough time to start anything.

I can't really devote myself to the next book because I'll have to put it away just as the creative juices are flowing, which will cause constant pining through the semester when I have to be focused, but I can't stand to do nothing.

Maybe I can take up dust collecting.

Random Rant #1

Good eve'n dear readers,
I would like to share a new segment of "It Seemed Like A Good Idea..." called Random Rant. I hope you enjoy the program.

In this first installment of Random Rant, I would like to introduce you to the aggravation called Finding Home School Curriculum. As you may or may not know, I home school Eeny, Meeny, and Miney (Moe still comes and goes as he pleases) and it's going pretty well for us. I would not recommend it for everyone but if you are commited then it can be a very enriching experience.

However, there is the question of finding educational programs you want to use. There are programs available that have everything all together, every subject, lesson plans, tests, workbooks, the whole shebang. Those can be really wonderful but it also means that you are devoted to one program, even if you don't like the format across the board. I see the value in boxed sets but I don't choose to go that route.

I have chosen the piecemeal or Frankenstein route. This program, as the name suggests, is created from several different programs. I have one for Math, one for LA, a different reading program and a fourth for Social Studies. I have not found a Science or History program I, even a little bit, like.

Here is my dilemma. The Science programs I have been able to find are extremely secular or extremely christian. Now before anyone raises a ruckus, I have no issues with christianity as I myself am christian, I just want a happy medium and no one seems able to accomplish that.

There is also the problem of content. As in, if I want to see what is IN the book I have to BUY the book. I have spent more money than I care to admit on books that had lovely blurbs but were crappy out of the box. So short story long, I will never buy another book that I can't look at first. Well duh, you're probably saying to yourself but it's not that easy. Not every curriculum is available at the local bookstore. A lot has to be gotten online.

So I will continue my search for Science/History programs I can live with. Until then...we'll go to the library.

This concludes the first episode of Random Rant. Have a lovely evening.

007: The One Who Got Away

I like James Bond movies. I like the action, the adventure and the inventions. The puns are painful but I'll even take those but what I can't stand about them is all of the...It's James Bond, you know what I'm getting at. If she has legs and wears a skirt, he's slobbering all over her and she is completely willing to be slobbered on. So I was thinking- what would happen if one time he wasn't able to "close the deal"?

I'm not well versed in spy lingo or trinkets and I'm not sure I could even use his name if I wrote a book but here is my Readers Digest version of the story I would write if I could.

We see James Bond rescuing the heroine from certain death. It's a very close call and the adrenaline is pumping like a ghetto blaster. They sit on a cliff and watch the bad guys evil hideout burn to the ground. He says something pithy and goes in for the kill but just as he's about to plant one on her, she throws her hand in front of her face (so he's kissing her palm) and says "Listen. I'm grateful and all but I'm not that kind of girl."

This is an unxepected turn of events. As a matter of fact, James can't even think of a time when someone said no. He's not even sure what the word means. However, it only stops him for the moment. "After the next close call, she will be putty in my hands," he thinks confidently, but after that next close call she still resists his advances.

He is perplexed. He runs through all the smooth moves he's used in the past but can't figure out where he's gone wrong. "I'll figure it out eventually," he decides.

After the third close call he still can't get what he's after and he becomes obsessed, creating life threatening situations just so that he can rescue her. All in the hopes of breaking her will.

She gets engaged and then marries his arch rival, a squirrely agent from accounting and he is shattered. He starts drinking himself into a stupor every night, loses the keys to Q's lastest gadget laden porshe, stops shaving and showering until at last we find him, passed out in his Lazy Boy in front of the t.v., fat, uncoordinated and depressed because of the one who got away.

I think it would be a best seller.

You Don't Have To Be Sick To Be Nauseous

I resubmitted my manuscript this morning. The willies that accompanied that first submission came along for the second. I can't believe how much my poor melon is throbbing. Thankfully I'll be starting back to school soon so I'll have something to keep me busy while I wait to hear back.

As with the first submission, I sent one copy and then had one coil bound for myself. The girl who bound the first copy, bound this second one too. She asked if I was sending the book to be published and I told her it was a resubmission. She said she thought she remembered binding the first one and then she got excited and said she'd like to read it if it gets published and then commented on how excited SHE was. Oh my gosh!!! That just made my day. It also pushed me over the giddy edge.

If this is how I feel just submitting it, I'm going to be a wreck if it gets picked up!

Blurb #1 for PUSH

Kale Carson and her brother have been subjected to the crazed rantings of their delusional stepfather for years, but when she starts seeing his intentions in her own mind she thinks she might be crazy too. When an unlikely friendship provides a chance to escape, Kale believes she is finally free but an unexpected tragedy pulls her back into his grasp. Suddenly, Kale finds herself on the run with a man she just met, trying to stay out of her stepfathers reach.

Tell me what you think.

My Cup Runneth Over

I have finished my rewrite of PUSH, it is all boxed up and ready to send to my publisher of choice (don't be kicking yourselves for missing out!) and have started a new chapter (HA!) Of writing.

I have so many ideas, it's out of control so I'm glad to be moving on with the next tale. I will be thinking of you, gentle reader(s?), as I pen (metaphorical of course), my next exciting masterpiece. Are you hooked yet? You will be....bwahahahahah.

PUSH, LETTERS, MANOR! I'm so excited!!

I have almost finish my rewrite of PUSH and was inspired with ideas for two more books!! I can't wait to get started on them. It really astounds me that the ideas I have can turn so quickly into a complete story line. They almost write themselves so I can spend all my time trying to find the right keys to press. I think I've mentioned my "Hunt and Peck" method before.

I wonder how many books I'll have to write before I finally become familiar with the keyboard.

Better Late Than Never

I realize that the fourth of July has already come and gone but I couldnt let the week end without sharing a poignant story with you, my devoted reader. If there are more than one of you out there, that is a miracle in and of itself, but I digress.

The fam and I went on a camping trip about two weeks ago, if you remember, and on our way home we passed through several small towns. As we neared one of these towns we noticed a lot of people on both sides of the highway, sitting in lawn chairs, waving little american flags. When we came to the city limits, we saw two men in cherry pickers hanging a banner over the highway. We also noticed several hand made signs mentioning a family in need of prayers and support. We didn't realize they were related until we drove into town and saw the streets lined with fire trucks, police cars, ambulances and the rest of the community. It looked to us like a grand parade was coming through town so we were curious to know what was happening. Mr. D pulled over to the side of the road and I hoped out of the van to ask one of the firemen what they were preparing for. His answer brought tears to my eyes.

He told me that one of the young men from their town had been killed in Iraq and the community was showing their support and gratitude, for him and his family's sacrifice, by escorting him to his final resting place. I tear up just thinking about it. I then thanked the fireman for being a part of the most perfect example I have ever seen of "mourning with those that mourn and comforting those who stand in need of comfort." (Mosiah 18:8-9)

While it was a small town, I'm sure that not all of those present knew the family personally but that didn't keep them from honoring that soldier. I don't know the name of that town but I will always be grateful for their example.

Happy Independance Day.

July Is Hot!!

It's been a bit since I blogged last, lot of goings on and such. Had a birthday sleepover with ten screaming tweeners.Went camping and got rained on. Celebrated an anniversary (twelve years to Mr. D). Bought new tires (bend over and let me install those tires). Registered for school (one more semester before two more years of school!). Worked on my book (with ideas for two more books) and that's about it.

I should stop goofing off.

And the Verdict Is...

Not interested.

I got my first rejection letter today. Rejection e-mail, rather. I'm not as crushed as I thought I would be. I'm certainly bummed out but I mean, come on, who gets published on their first try? Not me.

The aquisitions department was very kind and gave some very helpful feedback. Also, they wrote that if I made a few changes, they might reconsider looking at my manuscript again. I wonder if I shouldn't just consider self publishing one or two copies, just for my own collection.

I guess it's rewrite (within reason) time. 

Writer's Block, Anyone?

So, I started seriously working on my second book yesterday. It's crazy how I have all these thoughts swirling around in my head, I can't type them down fast enough and then everything comes to a screeching halt when I can't figure out how to get from one part to another. The devil's in the details, I guess.

Wanna hear something even more twisted? It kind of freaks me out when I hear positive feedback for my first book because then I feel this pressure to reach that standard for the second. And it really does have to match because it's the sequel to the first. My head's about to explode!! And it's only June 1st.

By the way. A big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my sweet four year old, Moe.

Remember the Alamo?

It's a mission in Texas wherein was fought an epic battle. Every one died. Well, not every one. The women and children were left alive and allowed to go home. I know this because my family, niece, and brother went to San Antonio last weekend and took a tour.

It also happened to be field trip day. I now begin my diatribe concerning field tripping children. They are beastly. And I have found that all that their chaperones do is watch them climb on exhibits, run down the halls and shove people out of their way. Fifty chaperones means fifty people watching punks in the assigned t-shirt color make everyone else miserable. I almost decided to start pushing back. Diatribe over.

Anyway, from there we walked around the riverwalk. Very exciting.

We decided to make this trip a camping trip and we camped on Mustang Island in Corpus Christi. It was very windy. One of our tents poles snapped causing us to retire that tent. Oh well, it served diligently for almost three years.

The next morning we went and toured a battleship called the "Lexington". It was hot, smelly and awesome. It was even more awesome because my brother, a world war II history fan, shared "nerdy trivia" around every corner. I loved "nerdy trivia".

We swam some, we toured some, we sun burned lots, we came home. I can't wait to do it again.

Oh, one more thing. The second morning of our trip, we took our delicious and nutritious poptart breakfast with us to the beach. Mr. D thought it would be fun to feed the winged rats which only encouraged them to harass us. One particularly bold seagull decided he was not waiting for handouts and snatched an ENTIRE poptart from Eeny's hand. After the initial shock, she burst into tears. I have taunted her with "seagulls stole my poptart!" every day since.

Schooooools out for summa...

Sing with me! Schooooools out for eva. Not exactly. I still have a milllion years before I'm done but at least I have something to do.

My final final last night (that's right, I said final final) was 200 questions. No, they don't make a scantron with two hundred answers. You have to use two scantrons. Anyway, my exam had 200 questions and was comprehensive. Do you know how hard it is to dredge up sixteen weeks worth of information? It's a head compressing event.

Here's how it went down. After I answered question one (correctly, I hope), my thought was "only 199 questions left." After question two, "only 198 questions left", and so on until I completed the test. I can't remember most of what the questions were but I do know that I can count backwards. Little victories, see.

Then there was my Philosophy exam on Monday. I know I got at least two right. I know you're all thinking "Two?!" in a panicky mental voice so calm down. I'm sure I got more right, I just KNOW I got two.

See, question fifty-one only had one answer. Fifty-two also only had one answer but just in case that was too hard, Professor had written just under that "NO MISTAKE-The answer to question 51 and 52 is A." I had to laugh. When I got home I sent an e-mail to Professor, thanking him for the extra points. Then I asked him how many people will miss them anyway. He hasn't answered.

So now, I am free to focus on my next book. And I have several other books to write as well. I'm so excited! On a side note: It's been about four weeks since I sent my manuscript in. I'm hoping to hear back by August at the latest. Wait patiently with me. Uh, wait patiently for me.

If April Showers Bring May Flowers, What Do May Flowers Bring?

Pilgrims.

So it's May and I only have three more exams until classes are over. Fortunately, my kids had a school break this week. How does that work, you ask. Well they're home schooled. I have them on a six weeks on/one week off setup. This has worked out really well. Since they had the week off, I was able to focus more on my studies.

However, home schooled children are just as bad as public schooled children in that they all know the words to the "I'm bored" song and it isn't long before they start to sing it. My oldest started Monday. But she was quickly singing a new tune after I sang the "I'll give you something to do" chorus.

At any rate, this was the week when I could devote more time to study. It also happens to be the week where I ran out of steam. I just can't force myself to do any more. So I worked out a little compromise with myself. I would study for a time, then take a wee break. Sounds like a good plan right? Well, as my mother always said, the path to hell is paved with good intentions.

Now just to be clear, I have an A in all three of my classes and even if I bomb all three of those exams I'll still walk away with B's. Right now B is okay with me, but I studied. On Tuesday and Wednesday.

Monday and Thursday, I looked at my books. Then I spent the day cross-stitching and watching X-Files. Don't judge.

The End Draweth Nigh

but not nigh fast enough.

There are only two weeks left of this semester and I'm having to hunt for motivation to keep going. I was trying to finish reading for my Philosophy class yesterday and it progressed from "for all being kings as much as he" to blah, blah, blah, to I DON'T CARE!!!

To be fair, Philosophy and I have had a tenuous relationship from the start. I think there is some value to philosophy-ing but, like some many things, it has been taken to the extreme. Thus my slow burning disdain for Philosophy has turned into a raging fire of disgust and constipation.

Now, I know I should cowboy up and get it done but... Have you ever found yourself almost to the end of some dreadful experience that you have tried valiantly to soldier through only to find, when you get to the end, that all of your patience is just gone?

For example: You've put in your two week notice and you're counting the days until that two weeks is up, when the office whiner comes to perch on your desk and warble his (or her) complaints. Before you put in your notice, you would have been sympathetic or ignored him (or her) but now that you don't care about office politics, you direct him to shut his pie hole and get his hinder off your work space. That doesn't sound like something you'd do? Well good for you, but it happens to me all the time.

Would you like some cheese with that whine, you ask.

Yes. Yes I would.

Heaven Help Me

Or rather, heaven help her.

The "her" in question is my near eleven year old designated "Eeny". She used to be a pleasant, easy going little girl but, I kid you not, in the last three weeks she has become disagreeable, moody and generally a pain in the aft end.

Now I know what you're thinking, she got her 'tude from me, but that's not it. Okay, that may be part of it but seriously! I'm not ready for this. I know it's too late and I should have been a preparin' afore now but I thought I had time. I'm not ready for buttheads...I mean butting heads.

I'm doomed.

Coming Up Next, Your Local Weather

Expect rain and severe shingle removing wind gusts for the next six days.

It's perfect, really. Perfect for our insurance company. See, they only consider damage caused by each storm. So when we called last Friday to have them come assess the bald spot on the back of the house, they consider that one claim. Therefore, when the front of the roof was scalped yesterday, they told us that we had to open a second claim. So if we continue on this little dance WE will have replaced our entire roof by next month and they don't have to pay for any of it. See how that works boys and girls.

So what have we learned? We don't call in a claim until the roof is gone. Entirely.

First Time its Funny, Second Time its Silly,

Third time deserves a spanking.

I left my school parking permit in Mr. D's car again. That's twice this week.

Here's the dealio. Mr. D's work schedule changed at the beginning of this month. Before that, he made it home just in time for me to hop in the car and head to school, leaving him the children and the van. Now, he gets home at the same time I should be there. That wouldn't be a problem except I have to take the children to a sitter then drive to the school with the child transport vehicle so he has to smoosh our four children into the rubber band driven tin can to get them home from said sitter. I take the tin can on Saturday mornings so he can have the transport which is why the parking tag was in the can and not the van.

So Tuesday, I realized I didn't have the wretched yellow permit about an hour before I had to be at school. It was a debacle trying to get it.

I called Mr. D to tell him I had left the tag in his car and he said "It might be in there, I'm not sure." To which I responded "No. I'm not asking if it is, I'm telling you it is." So he said "I'll meet you at the school before class and we'll trade cars." I agreed to that plan.

However, he still wasn't there at five minutes before class started.

Starting to feel a little frustrated, I went and dropped my things in the classroom to let it be known I WAS there on time. Now, you might ask why being late is a big deal. Well, I'll tell you. It's because I have an intense need to be there on time. The end.

He finally showed up ten minutes after class started. I had to wait outside until he got there because I thought it was less obnoxious than waiting for a text before leaving class in the middle of lecture.

So I'm at home this morning, minding my own business, when Mr.D sends me a text saying I left the tag again.

DANG IT!!!

The Zombies Like to Eat Their Friends

One afternoon, about three months ago, the children (Eeny, Meeny, Miney, and Moe) and I had oursleves a little nap. I set a timer to keep us from sleeping the entire afternoon away. For whatever reason, I was dreaming about zombies when the timer went off and a song started in my head. It matched the music of the timer perfectly. It went somethinglike this- The zombies like to eat their friends, the zombies like to eat their friends, the zombies like to eat their friends. So ever since then, the youngsters sing "The Zombies Like to Eat Their Friends" whenever the timer goes off. Good times.

Time Marches On...Very Slowly

Well, it's been six days since I mailed my manuscript and I haven't heard anything yet. That's a joke. Mostly.

I have tried to fill my days with tasks that would keep me busy. I worked on small things like feeding my children, doing my homework, teaching my students and cleaning my house (I thought about that last one, anyway). My kids asked me several times when I would be coming away from the front door and my husband, Mr. D, asked if I planned to sleep there for the next several months. I told him to hush because he was talking too loud so I couldn't hear if the mail truck was coming. He smiled sadly and tucked me into my sleeping bag before heading off to bed.

Buehler? Buehler? Buehler?

I like feedback. It lets me know if what I have written (or said) is coherent, flows in a well ordered manner and/or is entertaining. I find it hard to ask for feedback. Actually, that's not true, I always ask for feedback but I find that most of the time what I get is...lacking in detail. I want details people!! What did you like about whatever it is? Was there anything that didn't make sense. How about my style of writing? Do you find the characters believeable? C'mon guys! Throw me a bone.

While I appreciate all of the positive comments, "it was good" or "I liked it" followed by silence leads me to believe that there really isn't a whole lot more to say. And that's bad. Mediocrity is rampant in this country and I'm not interested in adding my name to that list.

So if it's good, tell me why it's good or if you liked it, tell me what you liked about it. If it stinks PLEASE tell me that nursing may be a better career pursuit.

Novel Inspiration

It's interesting how inspiration strikes and what can inspire. My Philosophy class this week brought on a flash of inspiration (though I wasn't inspired by the lesson. Sorry Professor). I was also inspired in my Anatomy and Physiology class on Tuesday. I couldn't find a piece of paper fast enough. Now, I can't share my lecture notes with my classmates because they're inner mingled with book notes (fertilization occurs in the fallopian tube as they tried to escape the boulder of doom).

I try to keep my notes and outlines all in one spot. It's a mess. I have a mini three ring binder with filler paper and page protectors so when I get that flashy feeling, I can scribble things down. However, many times I'm not home when that flashy feeling strikes so I scribble on what I can find. That's where the page protectors come in. I tuck those notes in the page protector that goes with each story (organized chaos). I like to keep the notes I made because I remember what I was thinking when I wrote them, which helps me get the story down. It also allows me to see how the story has evolved. One day, when I have all the time in the world (just this side of never) I'll be able to get all of the stories written.

 I was telling my friend, Madam C, last night that the worst part about writing is not being able to get the thoughts down as fast as they come. I'm a hunt and peck kind of girl. I've been typing this entry for five hours. Imagine how long it takes to type a manuscript.

SOYLENT GREEN IS MADE OF PEEEEOPPPPLLLLE!!

Soylent Green is a movie, set in the future, where the population has outgrown the worlds resources. Charlton Heston is a detective who is trying to find out why one of the wealthiest men in the world has been assassinated. I just gave away the ending so if you haven't seen it yet, I'm sorry. But go watch it anyway. At the end, Charlton screams his discovery to the world as he's shoveled up and taken to the Soylent Green factory. He has a cameo in the sequel as a square green cracker. Ha! Ha!

I don't eat ham for the same reason.

The most common question I hear when I make that statement is "how do you know what people taste like?" I just do, okay! Actually, I don't but the last time I ate ham (about 13 years ago) I just had a most disturbing picture pop into my head as I masticated a piece of ham. It had been tasty before the picture but... Well, what can I say. At any rate, I don't eat it any more. However, I will eat bacon or porkchops, anything but ham. Does it make sense? Does it have, too?

Paranoia Runs Deep

In the heart of a writer. Or maybe just this writer.

 I like to think of myself as a rational woman. I'm sure some of you who know me might disagree but that's why I didn't ask you. At any rate, since writing my book, I have become exceedingly secretive. People that I would trust to rear my children should I die in an unfortunate accident (she was a beautiful woman, they mourned) or tell my deepest, darkest secrets to (my chocolate stash is hidden in a box under the bed) will only get "It's about a girl who does some stuff and then other things. The End" if they ask what my book is about.

It all started when my husband, hereafter designated as "Mr. Davidson", rented a movie about a kid who writes a story that is stolen and published by another author (Gentlemen Broncos). Concern for the safety of my story had already been percolating at that point but after we saw that movie, it exploded into a fireball of insanity. Mr. Davidson thought it was hi-LARIOUS. So to all of my friends and loved ones who got the "Um, uh, it's about uh..." I am sorry. Though not sorry enough to give more detail. See Ya!

I DID IT!!

I sent my manuscript this morning! I'm such a dork. I was shaking as I filled out the mailing label. How pitiful is that? Well, pity me cause I'm gonna shake like a fool for the next couple of months.

I went and had it bound at Office Depot before I boxed it up and mailed it out. It looked so pretty!! If the publisher doesn't want it, maybe I'll just make a bunch of copies, bind them and send them out to friends. Just kidding (mostly).

I Lived It!

I finished the rewrite of my manuscript this evening. If all goes well, I'll send it out by Wednesday. One of the items the publishing company asked for was a resume. Um...I haven't "worked" for almost 11 years so I'm thinking they won't be terribly impressed with all the space left on the page where experience should be. However, if they wanted to know what I've been doing for the last eleven years...That would be a wee booklet, chock full of romance, adventure, danger, sadness, you name it. It would be an interesting read. For me anyway. Because in the words of PeeWee Herman "I lived it."

Which brings me to a random thought. I can't be the only person who quotes obscure movies at inappropriate times. I know I'm not because I had an A&P class with someone who shot random quotes at me. "Right turn, Clyde." (That one made me bust a gut.) So, if you're a random quote spewer, be proud! No longer hide in shame when someone looks at you blankly after a well placed quote. Remember, not everyone has the capacity for trivial knowledge. And "lots of people go to school for eight years." "Yeah, they're called doctors."

Maiden Post

Well alrighty.
There seem to be a lot of blogs out there. Especially devoted to writing. I got that picture when every catchy title I wanted to use for this blog had already been taken. I guess I'm showing up late for the party and all the guacamole is gone. Dang! That's okay though. I can't tell you how many accounts I have that I can't get into because I decided on a "cutesy" name that I promptly forgot.

On to business. I have written a book. Can I call it a book if it hasn't been published? (It's the details that always get me) At any rate, I have finished my first whatever you call it and am now preparing to send it to the first publishing company. I am totally excited (channeling my inner excitable puppy) while still trying to balance being realistic. It's not working. Oh well. So I guess, to anyone whose interested, come with me and let's see what we can learn.