I Almost Forgot How Much I Love It

Yesterday was the best day I've had in a long, long time.

I've been working on my manuscript -- the one that's going back out agent-fishing at the end of the month -- and yesterday I had a breakthrough. I have always had these two scenes that didn't quite work. They imparted necessary information but didn't really seem to move the plot forward. They slowed the pacing, and you know that's really a deal-breaker.

So while I was trying to figure out if I could cut them entirely, maybe make up a whole new section to get that same information across to the reader, the idea occurred to me to combine the scenes. As soon as I thought it, I knew it would work. I put both scenes side-by-side, chopped out one location, lost one of the characters entirely (he was dull, no one will miss him) and from seventeen dragging pages of necessary information formed nine pages of good characterization, great pacing, and I think it might have even tightened the plot.

That's what I call a good day of work. I'd almost forgotten how fun it is to work at something you love to do.

This is Home

It's hard to parent. Especially difficult is when the child you are parenting is taller than you, totally entertaining, generally well-behaved, and yet shockingly irresponsible and/or thoughtless.

You may have noticed that I haven't posted for several days. It's been a rough week. Two of Kev's teachers contacted me to report odd behaviors. The second teacher was nearly in tears when I spoke to her. Kevin is now grounded to within an inch of his life. His wardrobe is pared down to six or seven "plain" shirts and four or five pairs of "plain" jeans/pants. No cool accessories sporting skulls and crossbones or deathbats. No checkerboard shoes. No fur-lined hoodies, or hoodies of any kind, actually.

Also, he is banned from the computer except for a (monitored) hour a week, split up into two sessions if he chooses. Banned from using his phone to have contact with anyone not a relative. And I instructed him as he cleared out his bedroom of all "stuff" except for his bed, a work table, and chair. No stereo, no games, no junk of any kind to fool with. Musical instruments stay available.

Now he has so much more time to study for the classes he apparently wasn't paying any attention to. And so much more time to hang out with his MOTHER who can further instruct him on proper human behavior since it appears I failed in my attempts to ingrain that knowledge in the first thirteen years. Respect for teachers, proper attitudes regarding school, treatment of females (whether they behave like ladies or not, you are to behave like a gentleman, duh) respect for self, love of learning, and even the excitement over everyday joys like playing with your dogs or watching the all new American Gladiators!!!

He's a good boy. He'll get back to where he needs to be. Everyone gets off the straight and narrow from time to time and I can only thank God that his wanderings don't yet include substance abuse or ANY KIND OF SEXUAL ACTIVITIES. Sorry. Had to be sure he heard me on that last point. Thirteen is a bit young for such things and since his birthday is rapidly approaching, FOURTEEN IS TOO YOUNG ALSO.

But back to the grown-up stuff.

Rich is happily working in Philadelphi for a few weeks (I say "happily" because it means he doesn't have to deal with all of the above, or at least not at too close a distance!) and while Kev and I hack our way through the jungle of mother/son angst, I'm the grown-up in charge.

So today while I was cleaning a house, a Sheryl Crow song came up on my mp3 player. It was an old favorite entitled "Home" and some of the lyrics say "I'm going crazy, a little everyday... everything I wanted is now driving me away..." Throw in the word "insane" in place of "away" and you'll see why such a melancholy song made me laugh as I vacuumed someone else's sofa. When I came home this afternoon, I was happy to see the boy. It's always good to find a reminder of your blessings.

I'm off to count mine right now so I don't forget some of the tiny, little ones that make all the big, troublesome ones come out all right in the end.

"Goals" Doesn't Sound As Breakable

I hate the word "resolution."

I've never made a resolution I didn't break. They seem to be made to be broken. Almost as if they are purposely fragile. I'm a clumsy sort of person and for that very reason, I don't have breakables sitting around my home. I'm certainly not going to CREATE something that is only MEANT to break.

Instead, I'm setting some goals. "Goals" can be reached for and missed, but you never break a goal. You never cheat on a goal. I'm going to share some of my goals for 2008 with you.

No matter how tired I am from working, I'm going to write a little (on my manuscripts.... this blog doesn't count, much as I love you all. This thing is not going to spring me toward my goals!!!) every day. Writing every day used to be a way of life for me and I'm hoping it's not too hard a habit to force myself back into.

Second, and still in vein of writing, I'm going to give myself one month to finish polishing this particular manuscript and get it back out there in the ether to collect either some more rejections or to find its home. So by February 1st Gwen and Will will be back out on the road, making the rounds at my favorite agents and my dream publishing house.

Financially, my goal this year is to raise enough money to pay off our credit card debts. We've been working this Dave Ramsey thing (well, working it kind of in a higgeldy-piggeldy fashion) and it's time to kick it into gear. Plus, once we get the credit cards paid off I might be able to stop working. And that's goal number four: no more complaining about my job. Everybody hates their job and until the moment when I can truthfully say, "I don't like my job and I don't think I'm going to go anymore," no more whining about it. It's tiresome. And I know when it's become tiresome to ME, it's got to be making you roll your eyes and call me pansy-type names.

And in THAT vein, back to the workouts. Yes, I've developed even more killer arm muscles from the scrubbing, but the regular workout has got to make a reappearance this year. My goal is to begin at three times a week. Twenty minutes of intervals on the elliptical followed by weights and some good yoga poses for the lengthening and calming effects.

And moving on in THAT same vein, the weight loss is about to kick back into gear (now that an un-named medicine has worked its evil way back out of my system with its weight GAINING tendencies!) and I'm setting the end goal of THAT at forty more pounds for a total of seventy pounds lost. I can possibly accomplish that by the end of the summer without either starving myself or killing myself in the process. We shall see. But, you see, the timing of the final amount is NOT the goal. The goal is simply the loss of forty more pounds. Since my body seems to have finally adjusted to the weight I've held onto for the past month and a half (no more cold feeling!!!) I think it's time to move on down again.

So that's it for me. No "resolutions" that are going to break by the end of the week. No deadlines for things I can't really control, enabling me to think of myself as a failure. I CAN do what I'm setting out for myself. And with my shiny new positive attitude thing (which seemed to kind of mystify my sister and my dad, too, when I was up for the holidays...) I won't allow myself to wallow if and when there are setbacks.

I'd love to know any of your own goals for the new year. I think this year is going to be a good one. I can just FEEL it inside me. Let's do what we can to share our goals and really support each other. Lift up your friends when they slip a bit, and allow someone to be a support for you. No man is an island. Or at least not a tropical, sunny island. A grouchy man without friends might be one of those scary, windswept Antarctic islands and why would he want to be that? Even there the penguins know they have to huddle together in masses to survive.

Happy New Year to you all! I'm off to write a scene.