The Vacation Had to End Sometime

My family and I returned from a two-week vacation on Tuesday. It was, in a word, heavenly. Getting to spend all day long without my husband going to work? Awesome. Getting to see how much my girlies love their daddy. Love it. Getting to go to Arches National Park and seeing the incredible landscape there was worth all the stress that packing myself and three little people can induce. If you've never been, it's worth the trip. We hiked to Delicate Arch with the baby strapped to me (in the 95 degree weather I ended up being just a tad sweaty), my five-year-old walking, and our three-year-old in the jogging stroller. It's a Jeep so we figured, "Hey, why not." Luckily I have a strong, tough husband who lugged that thing there and back again. I don't think it'll ever be the same.

Then we headed to cooler weather and stayed with my sister in Colorado. We ate too much ice cream, fished, picked cherries, watched fireworks, and swam.

Now I'm back in the 100+ degree weather, but hunkering down under the A/C and the ceiling fan and typing. Why? I'm trying my darndest to get The Reaping out before the end of the year.

They Grow Up So Fast

Sorry I haven't been posting much of anything on here lately. Life has been calling and has been beautifully busy. I'm not going to complain about that--taking care of cute girls is fun (and frustrating) and being their mom is the best job in the world. So writing doesn't always get done the way I'd like it to.

My oldest girlie had her preschool graduation today. I can't believe she's going to start kindergarten in two months. I don't think I'll be one of those moms that cry when their child goes off to school, but I could surprise myself. I'll let you know :)

So now with her school done, we're officially into summer and I'm determined to get more writing squeezed in when my babe's taking her nap and the other two are having "quiet" time in their room. Which is rarely ever quiet and rarely stays in their room, but whatever. I'll work with what I can get!

It's Getting Hot

Summer is slowly but surely descending down on us. We've had some 90+ degree days, and I'm already missing the cooler weather. Our air conditioner is running regularly in the afternoon now, and I'm dreading the high utility bills that will start coming up.

On the plus side, that means we're not outside as much, and I've spent more time writing. I'm plugging away, and Terra's final story is starting to come together. It's been bittersweet, especially since I've known the end from the beginning. It's just interesting to see the twists and turns along the way. Terra is really growing up, and even now I feel like I'm going to miss her once this is all done.

I've also been able to get some reading squeezed in here and there. Before I had kids, I could sit down and read for hours on end. That rarely happens these days, so I've been trying to make time for more reading. After all, reading is one of the best ways to become a better writer. What have I read in the past month? Life of Pi (I forgot how much I love the ending), The Amulet of Samarkand (Bartimeaus is a great character), and Beautiful Creatures (I hope I don't offend any Twihards by saying the angst is just so much better written!). I just started Beautiful Darkness last night, and Days of Blood and Starlight (I loved Daughter of Smoke and Bone, so I have high expectations for this one) is next in line.

Have you read anything good lately?

Family Time

I didn't get very much writing done over the past week or so because my parents were here visiting me. We live 700 miles apart, and that usually feels like 700 miles too many. My three girls love their grandma and grandpa, and let's face it...sometimes a girl just needs her mom and dad!

We almost never do anything exciting. We hung out, ran errands, had a picnic, and ate way too many treats. My dad went to fill up the car and get a car wash the day before they left. As soon as he was out the door, I turned to my mom and said, "What are the odds are that he comes back with a treat?" She smiled and said, "Pretty good." Yup, he came back with donuts.

One of the things I love about my parents is how supportive they are. Dad asked me, "So how is the next book coming?" I sheepishly smiled and said, "Slowly but surely. Life's pretty busy right now." And he just smiled and nodded. No judging, just love. And lots of spoiling of my girls.

I can't wait until they come back again.

Happy Easter!

Easter is one of my favorite holidays because of the hope it brings to my life--for me it's a time of renewal and faith. I just wanted to wish all of you a very happy Easter weekend. I hope you spend it with family and friends.

Back in the Swing of Things

The holidays have come and gone, and I'm sad about that. I spent the holiday in Utah with my family, my parents, and all my siblings and their families. There were three babies, three cute little girls, lots of games, and way too much good food. My five-year-old and two-year-old got to go sledding for the first time, and seeing the sheer joy on their faces as they slipped down the (albeit small) hill in my parents' backyard made the twelve-hour drive worth it.

Today was the first day hubby went back to work, and it's just me and the kiddos around the house, and I have so much to get done. I still haven't gotten the Christmas tree down, but honestly I'm not in a hurry to do it. The house is so bare when all the decorations go away. I have a huge list of the deep-cleaning jobs I need to do around the house. My babe is three-months-old, and now that I feel like I'm finally out of survival mode, the housework that sat neglected is now roaring at me.

And I need to write. I finally made myself sit at the computer last night and start plunking out the finally volume of Terra's adventure on the Burn. Yes, this will be the last book for Terra. There may be prequels (my husband asked my last night if I would ever write a prequel about the colonies being formed, and my brain instantly started churning as I thought, "Hmm...intriguing..." and then my brain jumped to, "Ooo...and a prequel about the Event!"--but there's no promises on that front right now. I have another project on the backburner).

So now I'm hunkering down. Today I already have: fed the kids breakfast, worked out, ran in the grocery store to get milk, vacuumed and mopped, started two loads of laundry, fed the girls lunch, cut some coupons, nursed the baby three times, managed to squeeze in a shower and a pinch of makeup, put the chicken in the oven to roast, deadheaded and watered my beautiful oversized pot of petunias, kissed a few owies, wrangled my girls into cleaning up their shoes and the family room, read two books with my girls, and wrote this blog post. That's all I can think of off the top of my head, at least :) Those people who say that a stay-at-home mom doesn't know how to work obviously have never done it!

Wish me luck. According to the outline I've written, this last book is going to be a doozy, and who knows how it will veer off when I'm in the midst of it. That's the great thing about outlines--they always change.

So Happy New Year to you! I hope this year is full of joy and love, and lots and lots of good books!

An Olympic-sized Addiction

So we've watched the Olympics almost all day today. I had a doctor's appointment this morning, I made some peach jam and granola, hubby played with the girls (they love Saturdays when Dad is home all day long), but in it all, the Olympics was playing.

My oldest girlie saw rhythmic gymnastics for the first time and was enthralled. The last event was with the ribbon-wand-thingie (I'm definitely not an expert when it comes to rhythmic gymnastics. Incidentally, neither is hubby, who called the clubs "spoons."), and my girl had to have her own ribbon wand. So my adorable husband got her princess wand and attached some crepe paper to the end. She twirled and danced and thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world, which she pretty much was.

Then I started thinking about the closing ceremonies tomorrow. Sure, I haven't gotten nearly enough sleep the past two weeks, or nearly enough writing done, or nearly enough housework done. But I'm going to miss it. It's probably a good thing the Olympics (summer and winter) only come around every two years, because I'm such a slacker when they're on. But I'm sure going to miss them.

Especially now that my girls are big enough to really enjoy them with us. It just makes my day when my two-year-old comes running and asks for "Lympics?"

Monsoon

When hubby and I first moved to Phoenix, I started hearing crazy talk about monsoon. And I immediately thought, "What? There's a monsoon season in Phoenix? Doesn't that only happen in, like, the Sahara?"

To which I was told: "Monsoon implies season. It's just monsoon. Though you can call them monsoon storms. And yes, we have a rainy season. It starts in July."

So after I stopped the redundancy, I started really looking foward to it, because it was only a month or two away. Lower temperatures? Yes, please. Lots of rain, you betcha. Thunder and lightning, bring it on. I was born and raised in Ohio, and we had some pretty spectacular thunderstorms. After going to school in a desert (Utah), then moving to more desert (Phoenix), I was quite ready for some rain. And cooler weather.

Now monsoon has rolled around again, and it's only (gasp!) 88 degrees right now, cloudy, and rainy. Yup, it's humid and my hair is so frizzy I don't know how I ever lived in a humid climate before. Funny...I don't remember my hair ever frizzing growing up. Maybe my hair is just too used to the dry now. But frizzy hair aside...

I love monsoon, and I love the clouds. The rainy season needs to come around more often.

Enforced Phobia

So hubby and I took the girlies to the Ronald McDonald magic show at the library a few days ago. (As a side note, I love the Chandler Public Library. This summer they've had great free activities for the kids.) Ronald was there, did a few tricks, did a few gags, talked about loving to read, got my girls smiling and laughing, so it was a winner in my book.

The thing that I really liked watching? Seeing which kids were going to grow up to have a fear of clowns. There's a -phobia word for that, though I can't remember at the moment what it is. The thing that was the most interesting to watch? Which parents made their kids suffer through it and which parents took their kids out. I mean, if my child were hysterical and covering her ears and crying and begging to be taken out, I would find the nearest exit. For her sanity as well as mine.

Do some parents want their kids to be afraid of clowns? Maybe they're the parents who are in fact afraid of clowns themselves and need to pass that fear on to the next generation. Who does that to a child?

Which brings to mind the old saying that the only way to overcome your fear is to face it. Which in most cases is a load of hooey. But some people just don't believe that.

Let Freedom Ring

I went to a flag raising ceremony and pancake breakfast this morning at my church. I love the 4th of July. Looking around me at my friends that were also there, I love the sense of belonging we all have to this great country. More importantly, I love the principles that this nation was founded under, the principles that great men gave their lives for.

We are one nation, under God.

Happy Fourth of July!

Handy

Hubby is handy with just about everything. It's been something I've forever been grateful for ever since I married him. Car needs an oil change? He's happy to do it. Need ceiling fans installed in our house when we moved in? He's up in the attic feeding wires and cutting holes and voila! Ceiling fans. Need bunk beds because we have a baby on the way and my two girls will be sharing a room in a matter of months? No problem. He comes home from Harbor Freight and Home Depot with the tools and the wood to do it.

(Which, by the way, is a fabulous solution, because Craig's List was just not forthcoming with the bunk beds. Why do people think their junk is worth so much money? Ugly junk, too.)

And while I think that all this is fabulous and he has my eternal gratitude and love forever and ever, the cutest thing about it is seeing my four-year-old be his best helper and shadow because 1) she's been begging for bunk beds, 2) she always wants to help her daddy, and 3) hubby took the week off, and any day when dad is home is a holiday.

So this morning he and I were talking about how we wanted the bunk bed ladder to look. My cute girlie quietly gets a pen and paper and sits at the table. I'm thinking she's just drawing. She comes back a minute later and says, "This is how I want the ladder." She had drawn up her own plans. And we're going with them :)

Why I Like Sports

Nope, I'm not an avid sports watcher. Sure, I'll watch the occasional game if I actually care about who wins. Does that happen very often? No, not really.

So why do I like sports, you ask? Because my husband loves to watch sports. And when my husband watches sports, I am soooo productive. Case in point? He's watching the NBA finals, and I'm getting writing done. And sitting nearby.

It's a good situation, I think.

A Little Scare

So the hubby and I love to watch movies together. We'll rent a movie almost every weekend and enjoy the time together once the girls are in bed. And my husband really likes that he married someone who isn't big into chick flicks. Yup. Most of the time, I can't stand them. Too cheesy, too predictable, and the characters often times drive me nuts. So our genres of choice are quite diverse, and he's glad he doesn't have to put up with chick flicks very often.

Last weekend we rented The Woman in Black. I admit I was curious to see if Daniel Radcliffe had actually graduated from Hogwarts and could hold his own in a "grown-up" movie. I'm glad to report that yes, yes he can. (Though he still looks waaaaay too young. Maybe he'll start aging eventually? Kind of a funny problem, considering all those kids were like 22 when they finished filming Harry Potter.)

Anyway, I don't normally go for scary movies. I have an over-active imagination (not a problem when it comes to writing, but certainly problematic when it comes to real life) and I usually freak myself out to an obscene degree. But from the reviews I read, The Woman in Black was more about the suspense and the jump-at-you moments than gore and creepiness, which I absolutely cannot handle. Remember The Ring? Yeah, I was creeped-out for weeks.

So we watched it, and it was a decent flick. Sad, really, and the ending was ambiguously poetic. But it just affirmed to me that I do not like watching scary shows. I was way too tense the whole time with that awful pit in my stomach to actually enjoy the film. But afterward, much to my surprise, no nightmares and I fell asleep quite quickly.

But the reason I'm writing this post...So last night my girlie comes in asking for a drink, and after I get her settled and myself back in bed, I start thinking about the movie. Augh! For the love! It was last Friday--I hadn't given it a second thought since then--and now I'm getting freaked out about it? So after snuggling as close to hubby as I could without waking him up and burying myself under the covers (and absolutely refusing to look at my bathroom door which was eerily similar to the dark hallway the woman in black liked to haunt), I finally fell asleep.

And I'm not watching another scary movie for a very long time.

Hot, Hot Summer

So summer has come in with a bang. After reaching 112 degrees last week, I said, "Yup, it's here." I think I was in denial. Major denial. But that's Phoenix for you. Enough to melt you into a puddle. So we've had swim lessons and hours in the pool and popsicles and playing in the sprinklers in the backyard. Usually this time of year rolls around and I just want to sit on the couch where I'm in reach of the ceiling fan's breeze and do nothing.

But after a week of having little to no motivation to work on The Reaping and procrastinating until it wasn't even funny any more, I've hit a groove. Phew. I was starting to get worried. Because, confession: there's a big reason I haven't had the energy to work on it. Okay, it's technically a little reason, weighing no more than about a pound at the moment, but here it is: another little cute girl will be joining our family in October. And needless to say, my energy has been at about a zero. So big hooray for hitting a groove.

It was about time.

And I'm sure glad it's hit because Terra's story is looking pretty exciting right now, and I'm thrilled to be working on it.

Jumping in Puddles

I got home from picking my girlie up from preschool, and when she saw the puddles in our cul-de-sac left from the rain this morning, she begged me to let her and her sis jump in them. I hemmed and hawed--you know, typical mom stuff when you don't really want to deal with the mess. But I looked at her sweet face, and I said, "Yes."

I mean really, how hard is it to take off wet clothes, clean off wet shoes, and wipe up the floor where a few drips may land in the chaos?

My littlest hadn't ever experienced the joy that comes from jumping in puddles--let's face it, in Phoenix, puddles are few and far between. And the delight on her face made the extra work coming in from outside totally worth it.

A lesson to me: let them be kids just a little bit more. It won't last very long.

It Raises My Hackles

So a recent article--"article" is a little generous here; it's more like an editorial rant--has been flying around Twitter, the blogosphere, etc. It's right here, if you'd like to take a read. And boy oh boy is it a doozy. And being a YA author, you can imagine how I feel about it. Oh, and Mr. Stein freely admits he hasn't read any of the books he mentions in his article. How's that for being uninformed?

Have you read a YA book that makes you think, that challenges the way you feel about life, that brings deeper meaning, that has characters and a story you can really connect to? Yes? So have I. Quite a few, in fact.

The biggest distinction between YA lit and adult lit is the age of the main character(s). YA books typically deal with character 14-17 years old. Adult lit is from there up. And to say that adults reading YA lit is embarrassing, is like saying that you're ashamed and embarrassed of your own adolescence, which maybe Joel Stein is. But those few years of my life helped determine who I am today. They don't shame me; they define me.

If I can't reach back and embrace that, then how will I find value from books written for the adult life I'm living now?

"Never Give Up, Never Surrender"

If any of you have seen the hilarious Galaxy Quest (one of my all-time favorite movies, by the way), you'll recognize the quote. And here's what we're dealing with today:

I recently did a Q&A with Danica Page. In that interview, she asked me what I would tell a writer who just wanted to give it all up. It's a poignant question, and one that made me think about my own journey as a writer.

I started writing stories when I was young, but I started this get-published journey about eleven years ago with the dream of finding an agent, being picked up by a publishing house, going on a book tour, you know, fame and riches and all that stuff.

I attended writing conferences, made great connections, met wonderful agents and editors, researched who to send my novel to, and shipped it off. And my grandiose dreams were dashed, big time. Sure, I received some personalized rejection letters, but they were rejection letters, and let's face it: rejection is rejection no matter how lovely the packaging and how kind the wording. Sometimes I think a form rejection is better than a personalized one, just because I had the feeling of "I was this close."

After a year of being rejected, I decided to stop with the self-torture and put writing to the side. I came back to it now and again, but I wasn't in it full force the way I had been. And I was a mommy now and there just wasn't the time as I tried to get my mind wrapped around giving everything to this little infant. But there came a moment here and there when that calmed down, and I got the idea for The Burn, and bam! I had the writing itch again and I slammed into it full-force.

But then I looked at my life and what I wanted. Did I want to have firm deadlines from a publishing house? No. I was pregnant with my second and I was lucky if I could stay awake through the afternoon, more or less write so many thousand words to meet a deadline. Did I want to deal with appearances and book signings and getting out there and marketing? No. I had snot and drool and other assorted bodily fluids on my clothes and was just so exhausted by the end of the day that the idea made me shudder. And the big one:

Was having a best seller really that important to me? Do I need to have an army of publishing experts behind me to make me feel validated?

I'll admit it: I would love to have my name recognized, I would love for masses of people to know about my books, and having a publishing house helps immensely with that. But more importantly, I want people to read my books and have an emotional connection, be entertained. Do I have to write a best seller to be happy? No. I need my husband and my girls to be happy. That's what makes me happy.

So I researched self publishing and ran full tilt at it. Now my books are out there. I've done publicity for my books from my own computer where I don't have to worry if I'm the human Kleenex for the day, and people have bought my books and people have loved them. That was really my goal all along.

Do I feel like I backed away from my goal just because I was rejected? Not at all. I just found the venue that works best for where I am in my life right now.

Reading: Elevation vs. Entertainment

I came across this article today, and the further into it I got, the more I couldn't believe what I was reading. Read for yourself and see what you think about it. And please leave a comment. I'm interested to get other people's takes on this.

I had several issues with this article. But the issue I want to address in this post is this: reading is either for elevation or entertainment. It can't be both (which is false in and of itself). And what really bothered me about it was the context: teens who are reading.

Maybe I'm more sensitive to this because I write YA novels, and teens are my audience. But I would argue (forcefully) that teens need to read for entertainment. Not just should, but need. Teens are at that wonderfully beautiful, awkward stage where they aren't children and they aren't adults. They're figuring out what it means to live and they're starting to figure out just who they might want to become. But they're not ready to become it yet. They're still growing up, and having fun doing it.

And it's in these years that they need to develop a love of reading.

Do you think that forcing on teens the classics: Homer, Shakespeare, the other long-dead authors named in the article, is going to teach them a love of reading? I'd say no. There were some classics that I enjoyed in my teen years, but most of the ones forced upon me in school made me gag. I've come to love them now, but back then? I think part of why I hated them was because I had to read them for school.

I'm not saying classics don't have a place in schools. They must. Using the classics helps teenagers learn to dissect books, find the themes and deeper meanings they might not have seen themselves, learn to delve deeper into what they're reading so they're not just passive participants.

But should we go so far as to say they can only read for elevation and not entertainment? No. If they're trained to think that the only books worth reading are those that "elevate," then they will never develop a life-long love of reading. I think that life-long love is a thousand times more important than to say you read the Odyssey. I mean honestly, who cares? The life-long love is what will allow that teenager, when he grows up, to be able to read just about anything he comes across and understand it and learn from it.

Oh, and Shakespeare wasn't writing to elevate. He was writing to entertain the masses. Just saying.

Happy New Year

I hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday. I have. I'm exhausted now. From being with family, eating gobs of food with family, running around the park with the kids just about every day, going to the museum, eating more hand-dipped chocolates (my mother-in-law's specialty--a blessing and a curse!), watching football, eating more treats, and just having a good time, I'm tired to the bones.

And now I get to make new goals for the year. I need to go running more. My hips and rear demand it. I want to be a better wife and mother. And I want to write. Golly, do I want to write. I'm going to finish Bound (I'll be finishing up the current draft within the next week. Then we'll see where I stand on it.) I need to write and finish The Reaping. And I have ideas tossing around in my head for a fun, decidedly paranormal series that I've got the itch for. It'll be a good year.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I have been totally slacking off on the writing. I think it's been about a week since I've opened the file on my computer. Seriously. I haven't gone that long without writing in a long time.

Last week was crazy, of course. Cookies to make, presents to wrap, presents to buy (frantically, I might add--shopping is pure insanity this time of year), Christmas cards to address. You know. The things that signal that Christmas is right around the corner. I love all of it. But I didn't get any writing done.

Now I'm listening to popcorn pop, my husband and bro-in-law are watching football, I'm hanging out with my sisses-in-law and mom-in-law, and I'm having a great time just enjoying the magic of the season. And I'm still not writing.

But you know, that's okay. This time is supposed to be enjoyed. I can always write tomorrow. Though I really am starting to get the itch...