Pass-A-Long Tag

I was tagged (FIRST) yesterday by the fantabulous Lėna Roy for a “bloggy game”. You have to answered these questions, after being tagged by someone else, and then pass the tag on to eight more bloggers.
This will be the first blog attempt at embedding a link under someone's name, so bear with me if it doesn't go as planned.


What do you think of when you the hear the word tag?
A gaggle of jeering kids laughing at me for being slow.

Do you think you're hot?
It's summer in the south, so yeah, I'm hot!

Upload a picture or wallpaper that you're using at the moment.

When was the last time you ate chicken?
Sometime this past week...

The song(s) you listened to recently.
I actually heard a new(?) song on the radio Saturday that made me think of Corroded's main character. Now I need to track it down and add it to my iTunes wish list. Death Cab for Cutie “You're a Tourist”. (At least I think that's what the DJ said.) It almost fits my WIP perfectly, except the character is not in her hometown--but she's lived there a couple years.


What were you thinking as you were doing this?
Seriously, she tagged me first?! And she remembers me as being one of the first responders to her blog many moons ago. Wow—can't wait to meet her in March.


Do you have nicknames? What are they?
The most widely used is Care/Care Bear. My self-labeled name is Wonderwegian, obviously.


Tag 8 blogger friends:
Stephanie Lawton
Joyce Sterling Scarborough
Dee
Abbi Glines
Jessica
Laura
Auntie M
Beautiful Wreck



Who's listed as No. 1?
Stephanie. Local writer buddy and hook-up for all things YA. Me thinks she needs a fluffy blog to soften her recent angst.

Say something about No. 5
My brilliantly funny cousin, who will probably curse me for tagging her. Want blogs with $5 words and deep questions while you laugh—go read her!

How did you get to know No. 3?
Mobile Writer's Guild and QuillMasters critique group. Dee is the real deal—she doesn't hold back and lays her life bare.

How about No. 4.
Abbi found me on Twitter—never heard how. She's a local (across Mobile Bay) YA writer and does oodles of blogging and Twitter and Facebook. We are suppose to meet soon... Write Club?

Leave a message for No. 6.
Laura, your blogs are LOL funny. I follow yours and read them, so please do the same for me. :) Do you even remember me? You were only about ten when I moved away, but your house was like a second home to me. I mean, did any of Staci's other friends stick it out through Super Saturdays (with all those chores) more than once?

Leave a lovey dovey message for No. 2.
Joyce, you are the heart and soul of zombie chicks. The world needs you to blog more often. You do creeps the best so finish that book, please!

Do No. 7 and No. 8 have any similarities?
Actually, they do! Though one lives the California dream, and the other is living life in the natural wonders of South Alabama, both do blogs that have "content warnings". They are each smart, sassy, and not afraid to speak their minds. When either are in a room, they are most likely entertaining others--through conversation or talents.
Auntie M hasn't blogged in months and Beautiful Wreck is on hiatus, so I'm not sure if either will get around to this.

What was I thinking?!

Yes, I used two, count them, TWO, punctuation marks because my situation is a question and an exclamatory. Read onto find out why.

If you're a reader of this blog, know me personally, or even just hear about me from someone else, you probably know I'm a writer. People have paid me for my words, though not as often as I'd like, and my words have been read by possibly hundreds of thousands of people. (One of my articles appeared in a magazine with a circulation of over 500,000.)

And if you've been in contact with me in recent years, you've probably heard I'm working on a novel. My WIP. Corroded. My first long-term project in over a decade. It's been slow, more often than not unsteady, progress.

Sure, I've got a list of prime excuses for being too busy to write, but the fact is, I could write a lot more than I do. I'm a procrastinator when it comes to things that make me nervous. Nervous energy and me are first cousins. I pace, which can be good because when I sit down, there are kids crawling on me within seconds. Typing with a kid hanging on your shoulders is difficult. Hand writing impossible. It makes me want Nathaniel Hawthorne's desk in the third story writing tower he had built over his home in Concord. Besides being a floor above the noise of his household, he had a custom standing height desk. (Which is the perfect height for me—had a lovely daydream while standing at his desk and looking out on the forested hillside when I visited Wayside.) He stood while writing, so I'm thinking he was a pacer, too.

This past week I've been procrastinating my writing because I received an answer to my prayers—a literary dream come true. And that dream turned reality has caused anxiety.

A month ago there was a terrible tornado in Joplin, Mo. As with the response from the deadly tornadoes in northern Alabama not long before, several authors stepped up to personally donate money as well as hold fundraisers for relief efforts. One of my literary heroes, Laurie Halse Anderson, decided to give of herself to help the Joplin area.

Laurie Halse Anderson! If her name sounds familiar it's because she's one of the biggest young adult authors of the last decade (though she writers for younger readers, too.) Heard a bunch of smack talked about YA books in the press lately or about books being banned in school libraries? Read any blogs/articles where YA readers/authors of all ages defend teen books? More than half of those articles mention Laurie Halse Anderson's books or quote her directly, both the pro and con. Tweet much? Try #YASAVES.

Several of my blogs over the past few years mention LHA. I've done her Write Fifteen Minute a Day (WFMAD) online writing boosts, taken her Blog Free February (BFF) to the highest level of commitment—no social media all month, and have traveled to New Orleans to meet her while she's been on book tours—even made HER blog for that!

Back to the relief efforts... Laurie decided to auction/raffle a full manuscript critique in order to help raise money for the Joplin/Ozark area Red Cross. The requirements were for every $10 you donate, you get one entry into the raffle. I begged around to family and friends and a few people donated in my behalf to up the odds. And I prayed, as did others. And I won!

I need to get Corroded as polished as possible within the next few months in able to not waste LHA's time and get the most help out of the critique. But that dream come true is looming like a thunderstorm over an outdoor graduation ceremony!

When I'm not pacing—or caring for kids or doing church work or planning writers guild events or any other number of worthy causes—I'm hiding within the pages of other people's books.

Literally.

I was loaned this interesting adventure by one friend (who I let know not to loan me another book in a series until the WHOLE series is out. Must wait for the rest of the story...):

And then I FINALLY started reading The Hunger Games trilogy. I'm now on this borrowed copy from another friend:

I'm up into the wee hours of the morning reading. Too tired to wake up before the kids to exercise first thing. Without the physical conditioning my creativity and motivation is slumping. My brain is fried from the summer heat by the end of the day so all I want to do is lay in bed at night and read. Which leads to late nights with my book light and groggy mornings. Rinse and repeat.

Now, I'm breaking my silence and the cycle.

I will do some form of exercise daily, beginning today.

I will NOT open Catching Fire, or any other novel, until I have written at least 30 minutes.

I will set my alarm each morning and get out of bed in a timely fashion no matter how late I am up.

And I want you to hold me accountable. Send an e-mail, tweet, comment, or actually in person ask if I'm any closer to sending Corroded to Laurie Halse Anderson. Because that action now freaks me out.

Do I really want to know what a NYT best selling author thinks about my work?

Do I really want one of my literary heroes to tell me what is wrong with it? (And what's good, but the negative always shouts louder in my head.)

Won't rejection feel worse from someone I admire than a faceless agent or editor?

What was I thinking?!

That it would be an excellent opportunity to be read by someone whose work I admire.

That learning the strengths—and weaknesses—in the story will help me hone my writing/editing skills.

That a possible blurb from a NYT best selling author will be a great foot in the door to the publishing industry.
And the bragging rights aren't bad either.

There's a motivational poster slogan that reads:
You cannot fulfill your dreams unless you dare to risk it all.

So, please, dare me to write. Dare me to finish Corroded and send it to Laurie Halse Anderson for critique. And then dare me to accept the advice and write on.

Reading by the Numbers

This morning I went out with the kidlets and friends on an alligator hunt and spied three gators.

It's always fun to see animals in their natural habitat—especially from a safe vantage point.

This was our first week of summer break. Although I'm not officially starting back to homeschooling until mid-July, I've started the middle child on learning to read and the eldest with typing skills. It's been a little slack these first few days, but I think we all needed some off time to refuel.

On a literary note, I've done next to nothing in the past three weeks on my WIP. My goal for this weekend is to get back on track. I need to finish the last tidbit of the first draft so I can better home into the poignant scenes in the beginning.

My reading the past few weeks:

Very insightful!

Fluffy fun--already passed on to a friend.

Still digesting this one. Full of GREAT information and advice. (Thanks for the loan, Joyce!)


Lately, I've been analyzing my reading habits and book collection. Though I'm not huge on numbers, I do love a good pie graph. Thanks to mathwarehouse.com for the pie making abilities.

These are my firm TOP TEN contemporary writers—authors who I've read five or more books by that have had new books out within the past decade. Otherwise I'd add in Beatrix Potter, C.S. Lewis, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Louisa May Alcott, Jane Austen, Beverly Cleary... you get the picture!

Middle Readers: Richard Peck (he might have some “teen”, but nearly all are middle readers that I know of), Gail Carson Levine (?), Susan Cooper (?), Katherine Paterson (but not exclusively—she's written early readers and picture books, too...)

Young Adult: Laurie Halse Anderson (no, she does picture books and middle readers also...), Shannon Hale (NOPE- sometimes she's found in middle readers—hello, Newbery Honor—and she has two adult books which I adore), Sarah Dessen (might be the only single genre writer on my list)

Adult: Terry Brooks (though many teens read his fantasy books), Beverly Lewis (no, wait... she does picture books, middle readers, and teen, too!)

Cross-overs: Madeleine L'Engle is all over the literary map—in a good way—but then again... it looks like 90% of my favorites are!

What would your pie graph look like?


To gather my thoughts in a parting gesture, I'd like to use a quote the lovely Léna Roy used on her own blog today, which was spoken by her grandmother:

“You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.” -Madeleine L'Engle

R&R

It's been a week of healing and transitions.

I was elected president of the local writer's guild this week so I'm busy networking with the new board members. I'm excited to try to give back some of what I've been given in the past two years I've been member of the group.

While recovering from surgery, I've had the pleasure to lay around and read so my list of books is larger than normal for this short of a time period.

I actually got an ARC for this—rare that I get one for a book/author I REALLY want to read. A fun tale that I'll be passing on to a couple daughters of a friend of mine. Gail Carson Levine is a fantastic storyteller.

What drew me to this book at the store was the price—bargain bin at Books-A-Million—but also the slim size of it, 153 pages. I'll be surprised if my WIP breaks 200 pages when it's done. Jan M. Czech does a great job of painting the characters well in so few words.

This was a loner from a local friend. It was fascinating to see how Ann Turner wove fact and fiction into the Salem witch trials. Totally believable, and the ending was surprising.

Another slim bargain book choice. Brenda Woods shares a fabulous, emotional journey of a group of students reacting to tragedy in this contemporary YA novel. Enjoyed the mental trip back to California, even if it was L.A.

Spring n Things

I hope everyone has enjoyed the celebration of rebirth. Oh, to be able to experience pure forgiveness and mercy—such a blessing in trying times!


Life's been, well—life, so my blogging is lacking. Some things are too personal (or boring) to post about. But I have passed a few sharable milestones this past month—breaking over 45,000 words on Corroded and completing 165 days of official homeschooling. Only fifteen more days to go for this “school year”. Woohoo!

There's a bit of a writing shake-up happening for me, too. After I finish this draft of Corroded, I'll be dropping my current critique group to be in a new group just for writers of young adults. (I might need to stretch them to middle reader level for future projects—so be warned, W.C.)

But I'm straddling the two groups for the time being. I've been with the established group for a year and a half so I won't drop them when I'm within sight of the ending. All the members have added to my knowledge and growth and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. They've stuck with me through Corroded (and several small projects) over the time we've shared at Panera and the hours we've spent reading/writing/editing before the meetings. I'll miss the ladies, but hopefully we'll still get to visit at the Mobile Writers Guild events.

It does make more work for the weeks I'm doing double duty. I'll be reading the submissions from two groups as well as rewriting/editing the beginning of my own WIP before I'm at the end. It'll be worth it to have a new eyes reading who are focused on the YA market, though.

On that remark, I best close so I can get back to writing/editing.

Oh, and here's the visual for my good reads since the last blog:

Of Books, Movies and Music

Haven't done much writing lately, but my WIP, Corroded, is over 38000 words now—131 double spaced pages. It only took a couple years to get to where I am, but I'm here! To think I used to push out complete drafts of novels (200-300 pages) in less than a year—but that was B.C.
Before Children.
That's still slow to some people's standards, but I will say that I was a full time student at the time. Now I'm a mommy working over-time, every day.

The books I've been reading the past few weeks:

The Tower, The Zoo, and The Tortoise by Julia Stuart

Very funny, with a few vavoom moments. I received an ARC of it last year, and have loaned it out, but finally got to reading it myself. Enjoyed it. Makes me want to venture into more “adult books”, but oh, I'm missing my kid/YA lit.
Especially since my next read was another adult book. (I'm almost finished!)

All Over But the Shoutin' by Rick Bragg


Rick Bragg spoke at one of the local library branches the beginning of the month. I usually don't seek out writer events when I'm not familiar with their works, but everyone in my critique group raved about him. So glad I went! And, obviously, his wit and charm made me want to read one of his books.


Two books in as many weeks: you can tell I'm reading out of my comfort zone!
To compensate, I've been watching more movies than usual—thanks to my parents' Netflix account and a stash of movies I'm borrowing from my oldest sister.

Juno
Enjoyed it more than I expected to. Very witty dialog.

The Last Song
I've never seen more than a minute or so of Miss Cyrus in action before this movie. I was slightly impressed. The thing that bothered me the most was her speaking voice. Sounds like an older DJ's voice--bit on the smoker's side. Odd.

Alex and Emma

I enjoy plots with a story within a story, and when writers are involved it's an added bonus. My favorite example of this is the book/movie Holes--brilliant.


And while I was on the classic name kick, I tried out the newest BBC version of


Emma

I do love the Paltrow version—much more glorious to the eyes than the old BBC version—but this one stole my heart. Or was it Mr. Knightly? No, it was Emma! The actress looked so familiar, and her mannerisms reminded me of Drew Barrymore in Ever After (LOVE IT!) I waited until after seeing the whole mini-series to check what other movies she's been in, and by golly, she's been in several movies I adore.


Viewing Emma in all her glory led me to want to watch this modernized version.

Clueless

I forgot how funny this movie is. And "my bad" is used. I wonder if that is the earliest use of it in the media... The dialog is hilarious and the clothing snazzy.



And as if my brain wasn't fed—all though most might be considered junk food—enough, I've been listening to my iPod as much as possible, which isn't a whole lot. Mainly it's in the car since I can't plug my ears while watching the kids, though it does sound like a lovely idea. I'm borrowing one of those cassette tape adapters, with the tape that goes into the car stereo that has a wire hanging out of it to plug into the iPod.
Yes, my car as a cassette player! It's a 1996, a year older than our original car which we had to replace last summer. But it only has 60K miles on it and has leather seats and power windows, a big step up from the ol' Neon.

Back to the iPod... I love listening to it on shuffle. From the time I was a teenager, I used to want a jukebox so I could put all my CDs into it and let them play randomly. So, I'm loving the portable jukebox. The 8GB doesn't hold all my music, but a decent percentage of it. My musical taste is eclectic. I know what I like and it's spans to genres.

Example of what pops up if you are fortunate enough to ride in my vehicle: Chesney Hawkes, Midlake, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, Tyketto, Tchaikovsky, Ottmar Liebert, Firehouse, Patsy Cline, Joey Tempest, Diamond Rio, Mitch Malloy, Martina McBride, Rainbow, Dee-Lite, Alice in Wonderland (animated soundtrack), Sibelius, and REO Speedwagon.

Can you beat that?
Do you even know who half those singers/groups/composers are?

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Hope everyone had a magical weekend. Here's a peek at one of our seasonal adventures.





On a side note, if you put both an orange and a vanilla flavored Tootsie Fruit Roll in your mouth at the same time it tastes like an orange creamsicle.


Autumn on the Gulf Coast came and went and came and... I hope it sticks around this time! The crisp weather of fall (if we're lucky enough to receive typical seasonal weather) is invigorating. I usually get inspirational writing boosts this time of year but it hasn't happened yet. So, I'm sitting at my desk with the table top fan blowing on my face, praying for the courage to step forward with my WIP. I haven't made major progress on Corroded (because of other projects—and laziness) in at least two months. This blog is my jumping point to get back into the swing of things. I need to face the climax of the novel and conquer!

Even growing up in the also sporadic climate of coastal California, inspiration happened this time of year. I believe I began each of my novel length stories in the fall, starting at fifteen years old. The bulk of my poetry was written in autumn, with a generous helping of winter and some spring sprinkled in. Flipping through my poetry notebook I can count on one hand the poems written during the summer months. And speaking of poetry, I haven't written a cataloged poem since I was pregnant with my oldest in 1998. Question to self: What's up with that?!

But for now, I've got a terrifically awful poem to share. Remember, these poems are two decades old in some cases. Don't hold it against me! This one happens to be from the autumn I started college, at seventeen years old.

Breath of Life


Days do ever pass
Leaves turn golden and fall
Attending our last class
Is a walk down an endless hall

Sometimes it will seem
Like it's you against the rest
But your light will forever beam
You know you're one of the best

So keep in touch
With that strong sensation
It will give you much
Over-powering elation

Soggy Blog

Yawn. It's close to bedtime but I haven't written anything more than a few e-mails and a FaceBook status today. The need to put thoughts into words, to feel the letters and spaces flow effortlessly through my finger tips, was too difficult to ignore.

Sometimes I feel the need to write on paper. The mesh of print/cursive—that I was always corrected by the students for using when substituting in elementary school—is therapeutic some days. Especially when using one of my favorite Profile Paper Mate pens. The act of moving the pen over paper is art itself.

But other times, like tonight, I need the soft music of the keyboard—the gentle sound created is just enough to fill the void on a finally quiet night. Seeing the words fill the screen allows me to feel that I'm accomplishing something, even though I cheat and use a size 14 font.

It's been a long day. From standing in line at the local Wal-Mart Supercenter for 30 minutes because their debit/check/credit card server was down to having to rush to a pediatrician appointment for the princess (no worries, it was her two year check-up) to dealing with the oldest child's meltdown (and not backing down on the repercussions.) Yes, it's been a long day!

And why am I blabbing about nothing? I suppose it's about writing and life, as usual, but there is a deeper meaning behind this blog.

PROCRASTINATION.

Plain and simple. I'm avoiding my W.I.P. because I've spent over a month working on a short story. And this past week I've added a non-fiction magazine article to the mix so Corroded has been wilting in the heat of the southern summer. Well, hopefully its smoldering, but I feel so removed from it that I can't help but think it's less than it was... that I'm not able to return to the hundred plus pages without the storyline falling into the abyss of flatly written mush.

So, instead I choose to write a squishy blog. At least I've filled up a page in my document file. Any writing counts, right?

And to go along with this soggy puddle, here's the first poem I have record of writing, way back at eleven years old.


Trees

Trees grow, very slow.
By the sea and by me.
They grow in lawns and by ponds.
Very slow do they grow.

Numb no More

I've felt emotionally numb off and on over the years, especially since becoming a mother. It's difficult to draw the line between mother-fatigue and depression but either (and most diffidently the combination of the two!) could be counted as a cause of the numbness.

Since my WIP is a teen novel, I felt the urge to reconnect to my younger, emotional self. Pictures from the era provide an opening but it's my poetry that drags all the emotions back—kicking and screaming.
And, wow, was I in touch with my inner angst!
Check out my brooding self in Pebble Beach, 1992....

Oh, I miss my hair!

I thought it'd be fun to start adding a few poems to each post—providing a flash-portrait of some of the imaginings of my former self. I'll even put the desperately awful ones up.

I'll start things off with a poem which I turned in to my Creative Writing teacher and he wrote a “please see me” note on the bottom of it. I was too embarrassed to confront him, thinking he might be suspecting abuse or something. But he never followed up on it, not sure if that's good or bad... hmm.

The poem, written by my sixteen year old self, was inspired by the movie ___________.

Wait, you tell me!
(Hint: 80's fantasy. No, the movie title is NOT in the poem/title.)


Mask

Illusions surround
my every move
Walking through the corridor of eternity
I feel tampered with and used

Down the path I see someone I know
look again
it isn't who it seems to be
A face turned and twisted
in my mind
to become fantasy

But after all
what is a face
environment
or a smile?
They are things we hide behind
truths we run from for miles.


What movie do you think it is? Comment!
The first correct person might win an autographed copy of the poem. :)

And don't forget to vote.