Uh-Oh

The time flew by. Just a few moments ago, it was Wednesday!

I've been buried in family and Thanksgiving and Harry Potter. Yet, here the world is, expecting to be taken seriously.

I've barely been making my word count after a few days off. (I'm up to 7 days off now. Better check how many Sven allows.)

I've found a new coffee shop on the square here. The only fly in the ointment--you have to move your car every two hours. However, it's worth it for the excellent atmosphere, and the music selection which so matches my taste. Great coffee, and the best gift--the courthouse clock that chimes the hours. I love living in this little town (except for the lousy Internet service and the lack of a garbage disposal). It's the little things!

Today, while I was working, I looked up at the counter and noticed a basket that asked for volunteers to knit/crochet baby caps for the local hospital. I can do that! I emailed--I have the pattern--tomorrow, I'm buying some yarn.

Tonight--maybe a few more words on the wip.

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's my favorite holiday. I have a huge family, and we all used to meet at Grandma's for Thanksgiving. We'd eat in stages--men and boys first, although I wonder if that was just what happened--or was it some strange Southern ritual? Either way, I always loved my spot at the dishwasher-cum-table because we couldn't all fit at the table, even in stages. Ohmygosh, the food. Though it hasn't come down to me, I spring from a line of amazing cooks. I wish I'd learned--but then what would the firemen do with their spare time? ;-)

Anyway, after dinner (that would be the noonish meal), we'd climb the ridge behind Grandma's house and look down at what we could see of the town, then back down for another sustaining meal and then outside again for more running off of the calories. Mostly, I remember love as rich and unceasing as the wind and the life on that Autumn ridge--and laughter. My husband calls it the family cackle, but I think it rings with family love, too. I'm going to be missing it tomorrow, but those memories aren't going anywhere.

Here's hoping you'll all be making memories that wonderful!

(Thanks to my friend for the pic above! More lovely memories!)

Tuesday, Tuesday

The daughter's coming home. I'm working away. I'm missing the ocean, and day after tomorrow is my favorite holiday of the year.

Life is good.

Life is exceptional. Last week I wandered around, a smile on my face at all times. Because I was happy. Oceans make me happy. I've had a kind of a scary normal life in the past two years, and I tend to feel a little anxious that something bad could happen again. I'm meditating to remember the feeling those lovely days of last week gave me, because I don't remember feeling anxious for a second.

Don't tell me that's because last week wasn't real life, and real life makes demands. I've got my hands over my ears and my eyes, and I'm saying real life can be as relaxed as a week at the beach. You just have to work harder at making it so! ;-)

Blogging in Two Places

I'm home from the retreat, glad to see the family, but sad to leave the ocean and my new writing buddies. It was a great week. I've blogged about saying goodbye to the retreat on the HEA Cafe, over at RWA's online chapter boards.

Come on by!

New Friends, Refurbished Spirit

I knew only one other person who was coming this week. Well. I'd actually met three of the writers headed down here, but I only knew one I could blather to. However, I met another writer who also headed for a walk on the beach upon arrival, and I hope she'll be a good friend from now on. Come to think of it, I feel the same way about all the writers I'm sharing this week with. (I wrote this with correct grammar the first time, and it just felt stiff. I don't feel stiff about this.)

It's only Wednesday, and I've only been here since Sunday, but it has been potent. All day long, despite 12 women living in this house this week, the place is in utter silence, except for the ocean throwing itself ashore. (Siren song.) A sudden burst of conversation or a door slamming feels like swearing in church. I love this silence. At home silence distracts me--possibly because of the lack of an ocean chorus--but I'm delighting in it here.

Right now, I'm looking out at doggies jumping in the surf and boys/men chasing them. My walking buddy is climbing the dock steps to this house. My next-room neighbor is pulling up her favorite lawn chair on the deck. And there is peace.

The rest of the world is still out there somewhere. Good and bad news shows up on my news feed. My daughter is slaving through classes so rigorous they shake her a little, and I ache to make her feel more confident--because she's brilliant. My son hasn't called in a few weeks, and he and his beloved are on my mind. My husband had a long drive yesterday, and I found myself wondering, "Where is he now?"

But those were my subplots. Right now, in my story, I'm writing at the beach and finding my soul.

Retreating to Write

Sounds like a funny thing, huh? But that's what I'm doing this week. I meant to post last night, but the Internet went down. However, right now, I'm writing from my room in a lovely house on a beach!

A beach--that's water and sand and sound. Mother's love and father's laughter for me. I grew up on a beach and I never feel more at peace than when I hear the sound that is coming through my open balcony window right now. The ebb and flow--mostly flow because high tide is coming in. The wind and the whisper of cycles of life. I cannot believe I once took this for granted, but I never thought I'd ever leave it.

So, today I woke to the sound of this morning's high tide, crept down in a house of 12 silent women and grabbed a cup of coffee, hurried back to snatch some writing time, and then when I couldn't stand not being in the water another second, I moseyed on out, in capris and flipflops. The water was ice-spike cold, but worth it! I probably looked funny in capris (that I use for painting) and flipflops and a sweatshirt, and that sweatshirt was pretty toasty by the time I strolled back an hour later.

Then, I ran out to pick up all the stuff I forgot to bring with me, grabbed a sando (our family name for sandwich) for lunch, came back, opened the doors and fell so asleep to the sound of the waves. I think I could be a normal sleeper with an ocean outside my window. So, since that stolen hour, I've been perched on my bed, in a sweater and a blanket, working to the sound of the waves and the occasional tang of salty water.

In the words of William P. Kinsella's Shoeless Joe, "Is this heaven?"

Another Day Off

Yesterday. I bought an amazing flash drive, though. That should count as work because I needed a newer, bigger one. :-)

But that's four days off now, Sven-wise. And I haven't been keeping exact word count because I started over with the wip after I finished the revision. Have you ever noticed that when you start over, things end up moving out? I mean, the scene on page 3 becomes a scene on page 293? Not that I'm near pg. 293 yet, but that kind of move often happens when I revise. Something that seemed vital to share at the beginning becomes part of a character's resolution at the end of the book.

I'm taking a class with Alicia Rasley, and it's making me think. She's an amazing teacher. Sometimes, I'm relieved to find I'm going in the right direction, and then sometimes I'm so excited to find a new idea that's just beet waiting out there.

So, no more days off for now. Gotta get back to work.

Funny Review (ers)

What's up with reviewing a book you haven't read? I just found a review for Temporary Father. It's a good review, nicely written, and I appreciated the kind words, but it ends with something about readers being forced to suspend disbelief to accept that the hero, a business mogul also has time to be a model. It must come from a throwaway line early (first few pages) in the book that says something about the hero being on the covers of the biz mags so often his colleagues or the papers (can't remember which) mock about his being a cover model.

I never make my characters drop-dead gorgeous, but I gave this excellent and heroic guy a minor heart attack at 42 and wanted to make it up to him. Of course, the book's cover doesn't give away his gorgeousness either--but that actually is in the story! ;-)

Another "Best" Blog I've Ever Read!

No, really! And just when I was trying to trim my daily blog cruise! My buddy, Kath doesn't seem to realize she's a great writer, but she's just started a blog I'm already checking every day. I don't get Kath's uncertainty, but maybe she doesn't read herself?

Don't cheat yourselves of a great read. Each entry is a perfect short story, and her husband is some kind of super hero. Oh the many things Barry hath done! Stop by McBlog, quick! ;-)

Good Eats--good fun--great book talk!

I never like to speak names aloud out here, but thanks so much--so much I cannot say--to the five fun, ever so interesting women who joined me at my table yesterday. Three were readers--and I loved hearing about your favorite kinds of books. Two were reader/writers--apparently both pretty close to selling as well. So I'll get to buy their books, soon! And all five feel like fine new friends. Thanks again! You all made it a great day!

And, of course there were books. I scurried around to get some signed for myself as well. Gotta get going on Sven-time before I can decide what to read first. ;-) And--wonderful chat with Debby going and coming. We got home before I even noticed we were close!

So--I'm going out to breakfast with good friends and then off to the coffee shop where my girl will be studious and I'll be checking in with Sven!

And by the way, I love falling-back day! Who can't use an extra hour?

Going to the Southern Magic Reader's Luncheon!

Y'all come on down!

I should have mentioned this earlier, but I'm abandoning hearth and home again--this time for the Southern Magic chapter of RWA's reader's luncheon. As always, I'm not listed. I don't know why I never make it onto the list, but I am going to be there. ;-) I'm driving over with a good friend, Inspirational writer, Debby Giusti. (Four or five hours of excellent writing talk--the best road trip!)

So, come on over. And also, take a look at the amazing authors, including funny, down-to-earth Sherrilyn Kenyon, who always gives a speech you won't forget.

I'm staring at bags of stuff for the basket and the goodie bags I'm putting together for my table, but right now I'm getting back to Sven. Gotta double up today. I hope doubling still counts. ;-)

Another Day, Another 750

Hard fought, of course! I'm dying to read and to play for some reason.

Writing is such a fun job, I tend to forget it's also work. A job like any other. There are days when I can't wait and days when I'd rather not.

Here's hoping these hard days pass, and some fun sneaks back in. That's the way it usually works. The fun sneaks back in before I realize it.