2011...What a year!

We're having a New Year's Eve party at our house and getting ready for tonight's festivities has got me thinking about the year that was 2011.

It was a great year. A great year in my writing life. A great year in my family life. I'm a little sad to see this year go.

Thinking back over the year - this was a big year for change.

In my writing life:

I didn't start writing THE RULES FOR DISAPPEARING until Feburary of this year. In fact, on New Year's Eve last year, this story was just a few stray thoughts that had started to grow in my mind.

I didn't start this blog until August.

I didn't have a twitter account or a Facebook page until November.

In my family life:

My two older boys are growing and muturing and fast becoming young men. Well, there are moments (okay, a lot of moments) when they aren't so mature - they are boys after all - but you get what I'm saying!

My baby moved from diapers to big boy pants - and any of you with young kids knows what a Hallelujah moment that is! He also started K3 in August and was one of the only kids that didn't cry on the first day of school. (Is it really sad that part of me wished he did!)

2011 was so awesome that I’ve got really high hopes for 2012. I’ll be starting revisions soon which is scary and exciting at the same time. I’ll get to meet my agent, my editor and several of the Lucky 13 authors in NYC in January. I’ve started the sequel to Rules and 2012 will be the year to see what that book will ultimately become. And maybe even a few other ideas are growing.

So goodbye 2011 – I really loved ya! And hello 2012 – you’re looking pretty nice yourself.

And one last thought…After today – I can say my book comes out next year!! How cool is that!

Have a very SAFE and very WONDERFUL  New Year!

Thriller Time

I love Halloween – the costumes, the candy, carved pumpkins, spooky decorations. Oh, and did I mention the candy? But today is really exciting. This year my oldest son is in middle school and will be able to participate in the Thriller dance. Yes, the entire middle school does a zombie dance to Michael Jackson’s Thriller at a special Halloween pep rally. So last night we shredded one of my husband’s white undershirts and got the face paint and fake blood ready to take to school.

Michael Jackson in the music video Thriller

The best part is: when I was the same age, I was learning the same dance. I was 11 when the video was released and my friends and I spent HOURS mastering every step. Watching him do the same thing is awesome. I hope I just don’t embarrass him if I bust a move in the back of the Gym. I may not can help myself.   

Time Management

Summer was busy - all three kids at home with various activities: basketball camp, VBS, golf lessons… And yet, it was super productive for me in terms of writing. I finished the revisions on my manuscript, got my query just right and started the hunt to find an agent. When the offers started coming in, it was the week before school started. My house was full of kids (it seems they all have friends over when the really big things happen!) so I sat in my car to take calls from prospective agents. It was the only place where I could actually hear the other person on the phone.

And now everyone is back in school. Even my youngest goes to preschool every morning, staying until 2 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And my house is quiet. Really quiet. For many hours in a row.

I have tons of time to write. Uninterrupted time. And I’ve got several new stories percolating around – each one trying to flesh themself out. But what am I doing? Not writing. I’m cleaning out the 3 year olds closet and pulling out fall decorations to spruce up my mantle and organizing my pantry and… anything other than writing.

It’s too quiet. I need the noise. I need the time constraints – like only being able to write while the 3 year old naps and the older boys are away at some activity.

Don’t get me wrong, I am getting some writing done. But inevitably, when I sit down at the computer, I notice the clock and realize 3 year old has to be picked up in thirty minutes…   

Boy vs Girl

Anytime a new idea pops in my head, I always think, “Should this story be from a girl’s point of view or a boy’s?” Obviously, a girl’s perspective comes naturally. I was once a teenage girl myself. On the flip side, I’m surrounded by hubby and three sons so everything around me screams BOY! My oldest son is eleven and you would think after all these years I would have some insight as to what goes through a boy’s mind.

And then this happens:

They’re covered in mud, if you're wondering what's all over them. That is oldest son, middle son and a cousin. It’s incredible how often my boys show up at the back door looking just like this. And no amount of time spent with them makes me understand why this happens. Or why they love doing it so much.

So I end up sticking with what I know. Which is writing about girls who don’t always understand why boys do what they do.

The Unexpected

When we go on vacation, I always have a plan for family pictures. I spend a ridiculous amount of time picking out our clothes, making sure we’re not too matchy-matchy and generally making everyone in my family crazy. We leave for the beach and among the sunscreen and sand buckets is a bag of perfectly thought out clothing and all my camera gear. I get everyone dressed and plead for them to cooperate with promises of candy and ice cream. Anything to make sure everyone gets to the beach without a mysterious stain appearing on their shirt. Chaos ensues even though my bribes now include new video games and trips to Disney World. I get a few shots, telling myself they’ll look better when I get them on the computer, and we head back to the condo. Exhausted. But when I get home and look at all the images on the SD card, I’m surprised. I have an incredible image of my boys. It’s perfect! (to me at least which is all that really matters) Here it is:

But wait, you say. “Where are the cute outfits?”

Exactly. This shot was taken as we were walking to the beach. To play. The boys were ahead of me and I asked them to turn around. They stopped. I clicked. No primping, no fussing about the shirt being itchy, the shorts looking dorky. And it’s my favorite picture.

And this is how it usually works out with my writing. I can clean my desk so everything is neat and in its place. I can make elaborate outlines and think for hours on the perfect name for my main character. But it’s when I just sit and write when things really start to work. When I’m writing just for me.