Today started off with a trip to Cedarhill Berry Farm near Pakenham. I'm embarassed to admit that 'adventure girl' has never picked strawberries (I know, I lived a tough childhood). So I packed up the gaffer into semi-cute clothes and we hit the road. After about a 20 minute drive involving a 20 minute talk about farts, fart-statues, baby Smedley farting (stuffed dog) and strawberries not farting, we arrived. And I have to say, I was pretty impressed. I've seen berry farms before, one being in Richmond, the other along hwy 7 (why would you want to eat something that grows beside the highway?), but this was nice. It was clean, organized, there was hay everywhere. So we grabbed our three baskets and head out. I'm proud to say I picked my three baskets full in half an hour. The gaffer lost interest after about thirty seconds, and I sent him on the task of going up and down the aisles. It worked. We (I) carried the baskets to the cash and only paid twenty-two bucks! I was so pleased! Then we went home. How easy was that? Then I actually washed our sheets (the cloud was getting black from dog hair), pretended to clean the kitchen (I actually only made green-tea lemonade...yum!) and have cleaned out the hall closet. Yes, this is it. I'm grabbing that horny bull and I'm PAINTING THE HALLWAY! I'm in shock myself. It's only been what? A year? Oh wait, a year and 5 months. Yeesh. So now I have a plan with shelves and we will be hanging all of our coats on various hooks of all designs.
So on a more serious, spiritual matter. Yeck. I've forgotten. I've forgotten everything I learned last year about control. I don't have any. I need more. There's a huge difference between controlling yourself and controlling 'things'. So, here's my reminder. I cannot control anyone else's actions. I cannot control anyone else's behaviour. I cannot control how people will react, what they will say, what they will say/do to me. The only thing I can control, is how I will react/say/do. And God knows what's going on with me. He's controlling what's going on with me. So I need to LET IT GO.
Why is it so easy to forget stuff like that? Ok, so off to paint, and off to rant to God about all this crap and I'll wait for an answer or two.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Blood, Dating and Dirt Pig
Today started off with a bloody nose from the gaffer's forehead smashing me while snuggling in bed. Then rockstar hubby came home and we packed up and dropped child off at sitter's and headed downtown for a date.
We walked the Glebe, walked the Canal all the way to downtown where we stopped for lunch at the Mezzanote and had a shrimp caesar salad. Yum! Then we walked some more. Through the market, through the rideau center, through to the glebe. I mentionned it would be a dream to own a house in the Glebe for a few years, and just enjoy biking everywhere and walking everywhere and rockstar hubby being able to walk to firehall. Of course we'd need our own parking space though.
Then we stopped at the cycle shop and I picked up a set of 'Ape' handlebars for my dirtpig! I'm super excited and the handles are about two feet long so it'll make biking much more enjoyable. Am seriously debating buying hot pink tremclad to make the dirt pig more piggy. Hm....Might look more girly and I might like that.
Dropped rsh at work, picked up gaffer, came home, sighed at my peas as the bottom of their huge planter broke through and now they are half on the ground.
Am feeling somewhat ...sad today as today is brother's birthday and we haven't spoken since Christmas. Am tearfully wondering what happened to our amazing friendship and closeness. Am also in a bit of pain (in shoulders, knees and ribs) from slight fender bender today. Lady hit me from behind and thankfully I didn't swear in front of gaffer. Come to think of it, I believe my exact words were, "Oh my goodness!" And thankfully, my trailer hitch put a hole in her bumper. But I feel, icky and sore. Am debating whether to hide under duvet for awhile or tackle book and then eat copious amounts of baguette and blue cheese while watching, 'So You Think You Can Dance.'
Given I've just painted my toes a lovely shade of pink, I think I'll work on my masterpiece. And think of the lovely time rsh and gaffer will have tomorrow morning at Cosmic.
We walked the Glebe, walked the Canal all the way to downtown where we stopped for lunch at the Mezzanote and had a shrimp caesar salad. Yum! Then we walked some more. Through the market, through the rideau center, through to the glebe. I mentionned it would be a dream to own a house in the Glebe for a few years, and just enjoy biking everywhere and walking everywhere and rockstar hubby being able to walk to firehall. Of course we'd need our own parking space though.
Then we stopped at the cycle shop and I picked up a set of 'Ape' handlebars for my dirtpig! I'm super excited and the handles are about two feet long so it'll make biking much more enjoyable. Am seriously debating buying hot pink tremclad to make the dirt pig more piggy. Hm....Might look more girly and I might like that.
Dropped rsh at work, picked up gaffer, came home, sighed at my peas as the bottom of their huge planter broke through and now they are half on the ground.
Am feeling somewhat ...sad today as today is brother's birthday and we haven't spoken since Christmas. Am tearfully wondering what happened to our amazing friendship and closeness. Am also in a bit of pain (in shoulders, knees and ribs) from slight fender bender today. Lady hit me from behind and thankfully I didn't swear in front of gaffer. Come to think of it, I believe my exact words were, "Oh my goodness!" And thankfully, my trailer hitch put a hole in her bumper. But I feel, icky and sore. Am debating whether to hide under duvet for awhile or tackle book and then eat copious amounts of baguette and blue cheese while watching, 'So You Think You Can Dance.'
Given I've just painted my toes a lovely shade of pink, I think I'll work on my masterpiece. And think of the lovely time rsh and gaffer will have tomorrow morning at Cosmic.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Bobos and bad editing
It's one of those days where my body thinks it's growing. That I'm twelve years old again and I'm all arms and feet. I smashed the corner of the car door into my 'bad' shoulder (ok, it STILL hurts), I smashed my head on the car roof (???), walked into a corner right in my groin, and kicked the table leg, barefoot.
However, I did see the doc and he says the ticker is fine. And that when I have 'an episode' of tachio-fibri-heart-whatareyoutalkingabout, that I'm to ...er...bare down. Or stick my finger down my throat to activate my gag reflex. Or poke my eyeballs. Or shove my face into a sink full of icy water. Er...I'll take the bearing down. And hope I don't poop myself in the process. Apparently doing this will slow down the psychotic heartbeat, my body thinking it's drowning. O-kaaaaay. Maybe I should keep on my floaties?
My house is super-stinky. I made Patak's last night and I forgot to add the onion at the beginning. Ah, whatever, it'll be fine. And then I tried it at the end. Ew. And the brown rice? Ew. Who in the world eats brown rice? I thought it was organic long grain or something. Yuck! So rockstar hubby was kind enough to buy clubs and salad all around. But I packaged it up and shoved it into the fridge, thinking I'd wash it off (yes, in the sink with water) and add to my omelette. So when I get home today, my house is still stinky, regardless of many sticks of nag champa, and I'm looking at it, thinking, the dog will eat it. And then I realized that not only did I forget the onion, but I also forget the cilantro and the milk. Hello? Where is my brain? Yeesh. So I'll fix it. Tomorrow. Tonight is baguette, blue cheese, grapes, olives and perhaps just a leeetle bit of vino. Mmmmm. Yes, rockstar hubby is working.
Worked on the book today. Debated overhauling it. Got very frustrated about 'my voice'. I still don't think I completely understand it. Maybe I should just send the silly thing to Andy and hope he can be blunt enough to say, "Um...it sucks" and get it over with. (Or maybe he'll think it's brilliant and he'll fly me to uh, Michigan or Memphis or wherever he is..or I'm dreaming again)
So rockstar hubby had a brilliant canoe weekend with 19 guys and they loved the food. Which I, the campfire cooking goddess, prepared. He got home super-late Sunday night so of course we had a nice big fat fight and snuggled in. Monday was returning stuff, having breakie with friends who are moving to Botswana forever (!!!) and a huge nap. Then the dinner fiasco. We get to have a day date tomorrow and then he and the gaffer are hitting cosmic thursday so I can pretend to work on my book.
However, I did see the doc and he says the ticker is fine. And that when I have 'an episode' of tachio-fibri-heart-whatareyoutalkingabout, that I'm to ...er...bare down. Or stick my finger down my throat to activate my gag reflex. Or poke my eyeballs. Or shove my face into a sink full of icy water. Er...I'll take the bearing down. And hope I don't poop myself in the process. Apparently doing this will slow down the psychotic heartbeat, my body thinking it's drowning. O-kaaaaay. Maybe I should keep on my floaties?
My house is super-stinky. I made Patak's last night and I forgot to add the onion at the beginning. Ah, whatever, it'll be fine. And then I tried it at the end. Ew. And the brown rice? Ew. Who in the world eats brown rice? I thought it was organic long grain or something. Yuck! So rockstar hubby was kind enough to buy clubs and salad all around. But I packaged it up and shoved it into the fridge, thinking I'd wash it off (yes, in the sink with water) and add to my omelette. So when I get home today, my house is still stinky, regardless of many sticks of nag champa, and I'm looking at it, thinking, the dog will eat it. And then I realized that not only did I forget the onion, but I also forget the cilantro and the milk. Hello? Where is my brain? Yeesh. So I'll fix it. Tomorrow. Tonight is baguette, blue cheese, grapes, olives and perhaps just a leeetle bit of vino. Mmmmm. Yes, rockstar hubby is working.
Worked on the book today. Debated overhauling it. Got very frustrated about 'my voice'. I still don't think I completely understand it. Maybe I should just send the silly thing to Andy and hope he can be blunt enough to say, "Um...it sucks" and get it over with. (Or maybe he'll think it's brilliant and he'll fly me to uh, Michigan or Memphis or wherever he is..or I'm dreaming again)
So rockstar hubby had a brilliant canoe weekend with 19 guys and they loved the food. Which I, the campfire cooking goddess, prepared. He got home super-late Sunday night so of course we had a nice big fat fight and snuggled in. Monday was returning stuff, having breakie with friends who are moving to Botswana forever (!!!) and a huge nap. Then the dinner fiasco. We get to have a day date tomorrow and then he and the gaffer are hitting cosmic thursday so I can pretend to work on my book.
Friday, June 20, 2008
judgmental
Today’s creepy factor comes from old guy sitting across from me at Starbucks, writing a paper on Lolita.
And he’s eating a breakfast egg thingy with way too much enthusiasm.
I’m trying not to be judgmental because I just prayed about not being judgmental with double standards. I’ll be the first to admit that if you put a bloody steak in front of me, it's not a pretty sight. I’ve tried thinking around his excuse for writing about such a dirty book.
The only thing I’ve come up with is perhaps he’s arguing against it. He’s wondering what’s happening to our society, where sex sells and we accept it. Yes, that’s it.
Now if he’d only stop farting. It’s starting to smell like old man poo.
And he’s eating a breakfast egg thingy with way too much enthusiasm.
I’m trying not to be judgmental because I just prayed about not being judgmental with double standards. I’ll be the first to admit that if you put a bloody steak in front of me, it's not a pretty sight. I’ve tried thinking around his excuse for writing about such a dirty book.
The only thing I’ve come up with is perhaps he’s arguing against it. He’s wondering what’s happening to our society, where sex sells and we accept it. Yes, that’s it.
Now if he’d only stop farting. It’s starting to smell like old man poo.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
and while I'm on the subject...
Yes, I'm posting again. My rockstar hubby is gone until Sunday night and I'm lonely.
Ok, I've had my bath and all I did was stare into space. It was nice. Couldn't tell you what I was thinking about. Oh yes, I was telling myself to go do my quiet time. Not enough time with God, I said to myself. My body sighed in guilt.
Ok, proof I am not a grown-up:
1)I bought a purple striped t-shirt because it was purple and cute.
2)I just ate a handful of carob chocolate chips.
3)I read children's fiction
4)I can't remember how old I am. 30? 34?
5)I'm wondering if I can climb into the mirror over the bathroom.
6)I blew bubbles in the tub. No, not from my bum.
7)I giggle when women fart in the cubicle next to me. If I fart? Forget it.
8)The big one: my parents came for supper the other night and asked about gaffer's school in the fall. My baby is turning 4 and will be attending JK because God was not particularly loud on homeschooling or not. When we went for our interview my questions were:
What will he be reading? Is there a nap? Will they be praying? Will they be learning bible verses?
That's it.
My parents? Asked. Me. 64 questions.
What do they do with learning disabilities? Who funds the school? What organization is it under? What do they do for disciplinary action? What if he's failing? Why are they wearing uniforms? etc.
I had no answer. Never occured to me. All I came up with was: If there's a problem, we'll homeschool.
Huh.
My kid can almost burp his ABC's. He also tells me stuff and then says, "that's just an expression". He knows all the words to 'I Love My Pirate Papa' (brilliant book by the way. bring a hankie) And whenever he sees the dog, he sings 'Bicycle built for two'. His favourite song is the Bellybutton song (veggietales) and Modern Major General.
Huh.
And I'm his best friend.
Ok, recipe for my 'pretend it's tabbouleh'
1 cup of cooked quinoa (i didn't feel like cooking it so i made kamut/quinoa pasta)
1 cucumber chopped
3 tomatoes (field grown)
1 huge handful of cilantro (cleaned and chopped)
1 can of black beans, rinsed
1 can of chick peas, rinsed
a lot of olive oil
some lemon juice
a lot of salt
some oregano
A LOT of cumin.
taste. change. mix. put in fridge for 6 hours. tastes best next day when it's soggy.
Ok, I'm going to lick the fake chocolate from under my ring finger now.
Ok, I've had my bath and all I did was stare into space. It was nice. Couldn't tell you what I was thinking about. Oh yes, I was telling myself to go do my quiet time. Not enough time with God, I said to myself. My body sighed in guilt.
Ok, proof I am not a grown-up:
1)I bought a purple striped t-shirt because it was purple and cute.
2)I just ate a handful of carob chocolate chips.
3)I read children's fiction
4)I can't remember how old I am. 30? 34?
5)I'm wondering if I can climb into the mirror over the bathroom.
6)I blew bubbles in the tub. No, not from my bum.
7)I giggle when women fart in the cubicle next to me. If I fart? Forget it.
8)The big one: my parents came for supper the other night and asked about gaffer's school in the fall. My baby is turning 4 and will be attending JK because God was not particularly loud on homeschooling or not. When we went for our interview my questions were:
What will he be reading? Is there a nap? Will they be praying? Will they be learning bible verses?
That's it.
My parents? Asked. Me. 64 questions.
What do they do with learning disabilities? Who funds the school? What organization is it under? What do they do for disciplinary action? What if he's failing? Why are they wearing uniforms? etc.
I had no answer. Never occured to me. All I came up with was: If there's a problem, we'll homeschool.
Huh.
My kid can almost burp his ABC's. He also tells me stuff and then says, "that's just an expression". He knows all the words to 'I Love My Pirate Papa' (brilliant book by the way. bring a hankie) And whenever he sees the dog, he sings 'Bicycle built for two'. His favourite song is the Bellybutton song (veggietales) and Modern Major General.
Huh.
And I'm his best friend.
Ok, recipe for my 'pretend it's tabbouleh'
1 cup of cooked quinoa (i didn't feel like cooking it so i made kamut/quinoa pasta)
1 cucumber chopped
3 tomatoes (field grown)
1 huge handful of cilantro (cleaned and chopped)
1 can of black beans, rinsed
1 can of chick peas, rinsed
a lot of olive oil
some lemon juice
a lot of salt
some oregano
A LOT of cumin.
taste. change. mix. put in fridge for 6 hours. tastes best next day when it's soggy.
Ok, I'm going to lick the fake chocolate from under my ring finger now.
under the duvet
It seems like the summer is a big waiting game. I think I'm not appreciating each day as it comes. I've been living with schedules, and what's coming up thoughts. Such as: Men's wild at heart weekend, city chase, couple's weekend, our holidays at the cottage, our 8 year anniversary, when do we start trying to have another baby, the gaffer starting school ...etc.
I think I'm having a hard time just enjoying things. I mean, granted, it's been pretty hectic around here with getting ready for the men's trip with all the cooking and shopping and changing lists and adding people. And then getting ready for the Guelph trip and then getting rockstar hubby out of here today. And now I have all weekend to just hang out. But tomorrow is a 'me' day where I will learn the art of 'active voice' and then to a 'going-away' party for old friends. Then Saturday is a visit with Gigi and girls and Burb and girls and dinner. Sunday is church and ... waiting for rockstar hubby to come home. The front yard is finished (for now because I'm tired of working on it, and now it's time for maintenance and fertilizing), I have to finish my book...
(insert tangent here) I'm a little concerned about it actually. I tried working on it on Tuesday, trying to figure out how to make it active and I've changed the beginning.
(insert beginning here)
"Jackson doesn’t know it yet, but far away, yet closer than he thinks, is a little creature sighing in frustration.
This little creature is sighing because she has no idea what to do. This really isn’t a surprise in itself, especially if you know her.
The trap door is shut. Locked in fact. And it isn’t supposed to be locked. It is supposed to be unlocked and wide open. And this little creature was sent to unlock it and then open it, so it would no longer be locked, or unopened. But given that Meeka Sodo was just that kind of elf, given that she was who she was, she forgot the key.
So now here she is, standing at the top of a 30 foot high ladder, trying to open a locked trap door, with a fish."
Which I do like a lot more. I think it's intriguing and ridiculous. However ... I'm starting to doubt, and get frustrated and ... (in a whispered voice) think it won't be good enough.
There, I've said it. I'm usually pretty vain about my creativity but now...psshhhh. It's not like I think, "well, if so and so says no, then what do I do?". I'm not even there yet. Yet. I don't think I will be. See (insert vanity here) I've read some of the stuff out there and it's junk! I read a bit of local guy's book, about Sir Fartsalot and sure it's a funny name and the knight is rather old, but it's B-O-R-I-N-G! (insert local author contacting me and crying on the phone or leaving flaming poo bags on my front step)It's too complicated a story! And then there's the 'Diary of some kid who uses cartoon drawings to explain his life' and that too, is : D-U-L-L. I don't get it!? What am I missing? Am I expecting too many people to actually snort grape soda through their nose? Am I expecting the world to be full of people who 'get' Far Side? Am I expecting the world to almost pee themselves because they're having such a great laugh? (or sneeze? stupid useless baby muscles) Sigh. I know I've written a great book. But what if everyone else thinks it's crap? And who am I to trust? And what if (insert friends who are important writers & publishers & editors) think I'm crap? Will they tell me nicely or just stop subscribing to my blog?
Oh great. Now I've done it. She's here. The insecure lady with the blankets over her head is telling me to go upstairs and have a hot bath and start a recommended book (The Swallow - rec. by Andy) and feed bubbles to neurotic dog because I have two and a half hours before So You Think You Can Dance comes on. And I still have to make famous Tabbouleh salad (which is made with quinoa and no mint, so technically it's not longer Tabbouleh but I haven't made up a fab name for it yet) for tomorrow's going away party. And if I'm not home all day and then go to dinner, what will I do with neurotic dog? Sigh.
I'm going to lie in my cloud bed and hide under the duvet.
(Yes the cloud is lovely but I still have problems with solid sleep. I keep waking up expecting to be sore or stiff. Instead I sit up in bed and yell at gaffer not to touch electrical plug or tell dog not to eat bleach that I've spilled. Rockstar hubby wakes up and says 'huh?' and I wake up fully and say, 'Oh never mind'. I love sleep-talking)
I think I'm having a hard time just enjoying things. I mean, granted, it's been pretty hectic around here with getting ready for the men's trip with all the cooking and shopping and changing lists and adding people. And then getting ready for the Guelph trip and then getting rockstar hubby out of here today. And now I have all weekend to just hang out. But tomorrow is a 'me' day where I will learn the art of 'active voice' and then to a 'going-away' party for old friends. Then Saturday is a visit with Gigi and girls and Burb and girls and dinner. Sunday is church and ... waiting for rockstar hubby to come home. The front yard is finished (for now because I'm tired of working on it, and now it's time for maintenance and fertilizing), I have to finish my book...
(insert tangent here) I'm a little concerned about it actually. I tried working on it on Tuesday, trying to figure out how to make it active and I've changed the beginning.
(insert beginning here)
"Jackson doesn’t know it yet, but far away, yet closer than he thinks, is a little creature sighing in frustration.
This little creature is sighing because she has no idea what to do. This really isn’t a surprise in itself, especially if you know her.
The trap door is shut. Locked in fact. And it isn’t supposed to be locked. It is supposed to be unlocked and wide open. And this little creature was sent to unlock it and then open it, so it would no longer be locked, or unopened. But given that Meeka Sodo was just that kind of elf, given that she was who she was, she forgot the key.
So now here she is, standing at the top of a 30 foot high ladder, trying to open a locked trap door, with a fish."
Which I do like a lot more. I think it's intriguing and ridiculous. However ... I'm starting to doubt, and get frustrated and ... (in a whispered voice) think it won't be good enough.
There, I've said it. I'm usually pretty vain about my creativity but now...psshhhh. It's not like I think, "well, if so and so says no, then what do I do?". I'm not even there yet. Yet. I don't think I will be. See (insert vanity here) I've read some of the stuff out there and it's junk! I read a bit of local guy's book, about Sir Fartsalot and sure it's a funny name and the knight is rather old, but it's B-O-R-I-N-G! (insert local author contacting me and crying on the phone or leaving flaming poo bags on my front step)It's too complicated a story! And then there's the 'Diary of some kid who uses cartoon drawings to explain his life' and that too, is : D-U-L-L. I don't get it!? What am I missing? Am I expecting too many people to actually snort grape soda through their nose? Am I expecting the world to be full of people who 'get' Far Side? Am I expecting the world to almost pee themselves because they're having such a great laugh? (or sneeze? stupid useless baby muscles) Sigh. I know I've written a great book. But what if everyone else thinks it's crap? And who am I to trust? And what if (insert friends who are important writers & publishers & editors) think I'm crap? Will they tell me nicely or just stop subscribing to my blog?
Oh great. Now I've done it. She's here. The insecure lady with the blankets over her head is telling me to go upstairs and have a hot bath and start a recommended book (The Swallow - rec. by Andy) and feed bubbles to neurotic dog because I have two and a half hours before So You Think You Can Dance comes on. And I still have to make famous Tabbouleh salad (which is made with quinoa and no mint, so technically it's not longer Tabbouleh but I haven't made up a fab name for it yet) for tomorrow's going away party. And if I'm not home all day and then go to dinner, what will I do with neurotic dog? Sigh.
I'm going to lie in my cloud bed and hide under the duvet.
(Yes the cloud is lovely but I still have problems with solid sleep. I keep waking up expecting to be sore or stiff. Instead I sit up in bed and yell at gaffer not to touch electrical plug or tell dog not to eat bleach that I've spilled. Rockstar hubby wakes up and says 'huh?' and I wake up fully and say, 'Oh never mind'. I love sleep-talking)
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
To: Andy
Ok, I can't win. I can't talk nicely about anyone, without someone else asking why I'm not talking about them.
So here's Andy.
Andy is fabulous. He is hilarious. He can take a joke. Especially mine. Which means I like him a lot because I know my humour is insane and weird, and not too many people get it. And I feel sorry for people who don't, and I bet they don't get 'Far Side' either. I'm willing to bet Andy has one or two posted on his tiny little cubby-hole's wall. Actually I think he mentionned his office isn't allowed pictures and he sits cooped up all day like a chicken. Ok, I'm making up the chicken part, but given I am a WRITER I'm allowed to embelish. A little.
So, when I met Andy of Zondervan, I asked him if he was in Canada. He said yes with a strange look on his face. A look I am not completely unfamiliar with. The look that tells me they are going to go sit somewhere else now. But then I said, 'Where are you?' and the face became more contorted with a bead of perspiration on his forehead, answered, "Guelph". D-uh. I MEANT where his office was, but given I am never direct in questions, no wait, I'm always direct, urm ... I don't usually speak clearly? Huh. Anywayzzzzzzzzzz, I teased him mercilessly and he took it like a man, so now he's practically my favourite-est editor (sorry, Burb is first), and I think he'd be fun to go shoot ducks with. Or spend the day at a waterpark.
So, check out his blog which is linked on my page, and read the books he's 'discovered' and then e-mail that he's brilliant or a nutcase. And his beautiful family is on there too because he doesn't mind showing them off. Whereas I am more ... private.
So here's Andy.
Andy is fabulous. He is hilarious. He can take a joke. Especially mine. Which means I like him a lot because I know my humour is insane and weird, and not too many people get it. And I feel sorry for people who don't, and I bet they don't get 'Far Side' either. I'm willing to bet Andy has one or two posted on his tiny little cubby-hole's wall. Actually I think he mentionned his office isn't allowed pictures and he sits cooped up all day like a chicken. Ok, I'm making up the chicken part, but given I am a WRITER I'm allowed to embelish. A little.
So, when I met Andy of Zondervan, I asked him if he was in Canada. He said yes with a strange look on his face. A look I am not completely unfamiliar with. The look that tells me they are going to go sit somewhere else now. But then I said, 'Where are you?' and the face became more contorted with a bead of perspiration on his forehead, answered, "Guelph". D-uh. I MEANT where his office was, but given I am never direct in questions, no wait, I'm always direct, urm ... I don't usually speak clearly? Huh. Anywayzzzzzzzzzz, I teased him mercilessly and he took it like a man, so now he's practically my favourite-est editor (sorry, Burb is first), and I think he'd be fun to go shoot ducks with. Or spend the day at a waterpark.
So, check out his blog which is linked on my page, and read the books he's 'discovered' and then e-mail that he's brilliant or a nutcase. And his beautiful family is on there too because he doesn't mind showing them off. Whereas I am more ... private.
Monday, June 16, 2008
apologies all around
I forgot a gigantic detail in my blog of Friday.
I mentioned all the wonderful people I met, naming two fabulous authors. However, I only explained Janice Dick and after re-reading the post, and getting a 'shot' from B.G., I need to apologize. Anyone who read the blog will think, 'Um, who's Bonnie?' and of course I didn't give any details.
This is the part where I RAVE about Ms. Bonnie Grove.
She's brilliant. She is so funny and so energetic and so fabulous....she reminds me of me? (Oooh, how vain!) She gave me a TON of encouragement, explaining how to have an active voice, to punch it up a little and then she explained the 'voice' thing which I am just now understanding. I have never met a more encouraging woman, and as I explained to Ms. Janice Dick, "she definitely has the gift of exhortation". And she gave me great advice on which books to read to better my writing ability. So, if you have a chance, by all means read her book(s) (I'm only aware of one, but I am a terribly ignorant person who is new to all of this) and Janice Dick's.
Bonnie. You. Are. Fab.
I mentioned all the wonderful people I met, naming two fabulous authors. However, I only explained Janice Dick and after re-reading the post, and getting a 'shot' from B.G., I need to apologize. Anyone who read the blog will think, 'Um, who's Bonnie?' and of course I didn't give any details.
This is the part where I RAVE about Ms. Bonnie Grove.
She's brilliant. She is so funny and so energetic and so fabulous....she reminds me of me? (Oooh, how vain!) She gave me a TON of encouragement, explaining how to have an active voice, to punch it up a little and then she explained the 'voice' thing which I am just now understanding. I have never met a more encouraging woman, and as I explained to Ms. Janice Dick, "she definitely has the gift of exhortation". And she gave me great advice on which books to read to better my writing ability. So, if you have a chance, by all means read her book(s) (I'm only aware of one, but I am a terribly ignorant person who is new to all of this) and Janice Dick's.
Bonnie. You. Are. Fab.
Friday, June 13, 2008
reeling, wheeling and dealing
ok, first i need to apologize because my mind is spinning so much on its own right now, that i can't be bothered to 'edit' my blogging, using proper punctuation and capitals. so, if you're a very important person reading this because i gave you one of my cards, sorry. but, i'm not sorry at the same time because this is pretty much how i talk. actually everything would be in capitals but then someone would get the wrong idea and think that i yell all the time, which i kind of do, but not in anger. whatever.
so i got here on wednesday, as you have read the other blog from wednesday. thursday morning i woke up and drove to chapters to get some good quality God time. it was awesome. i drove to the conference and registered. then i walked around so i could find where i was going but it made no difference because i couldn't find anything anyways.
so i attended the first session on: why you are here and where are you going? i already knew why i was there (to sell a book darnit!) and where i was going didnt' help much.
met two very nice ladies. one which happens to be a minister's wife from nb, and is moving to arnprior! hello? here's my card babe, i'm 20 minutes from you! she's young, is on her third child...typical minister's wife i think. love her. met another girl who writes 'historical fiction'. seriously? i had no idea what that was until this weekend. basically it's a mushy romance book based before 1950. huh. i asked what her plot was and it sounds pretty juicy and i may have to beg her to let me read it.
went to next class on 'idiot's guide to Christian fiction'. guy who wrote the book is teaching the class and there are 5 classes. i've been to 3 so far and they are fascinating.
at dinner i positioned myself right at 'important person i wanted to talk to' from zondervan. we chatted. i pitched my book. regardless of the fact that he doesn't take kids' books, he offered to read it. fabulous! and i think i made a new friend because i kept shoving my foot in my mouth and he seemed to enjoy it. i guess he likes loud, abrasive people. fabulous! inside joke being 'you're in canada!' duh.
another class...er...uh...hm...'getting your book published in canada'. which was very interesting. afterwards i hit up 'important person i want to talk to' from harpercollins. who doesn't take kids books. but after i spoke to him, he gave me his card and told me to email the manuscript to him and he'd give it to the right people. fabulous!!!
got back to hotel at 10:30, shrieking the entire way, had to take a gravol so i could actually sleep, and slept.
woke up at 7 with that wonderful 'did i just drink all night?' feeling in my mouth. found pillow in my mouth. huh. serves me right for going to bed without a snack in my belly.
got my latte (!!!) and headed to breakfast. managed to snag table with 'important person i want to talk to' literary agent guy and he told the entire table to just start pitching him. so i did. knowing he doesn't do kids books. oh! you do kids books? huh. well....blah blah. he gave me his email address and told me to send him the manuscript but to write an awesome cover letter. i have to 'SELL' the book to him. huh. fabulous!
went to more workshops. my mind is a blur. listened to 'what is a platform and why do i need one' and figured i probably don't need one.
oh, oh! i'm out of order. ok, i had my manuscript critique with fabulous Janice Dick (yes i'm including names now!) and she critiqued me very...uh...constructively. love her. said i had a 'fresh new voice'. eeee!!! told me to tighten it, fix the grammar (sorry burb!) and remove a lot of the tangents. okeedokee.
so today, i met 4 people to talk about kids book and the new 'contemporary fiction' one i've half written. except i don't know if it's contemporary fiction. maybe it's memoire? no idea. anyhoo...
met with one publisher who said no to kids, yes to adult - send proposal. okeedokee. next met with zondervan guy again, just to harass as he is now a friend, and pitched adult book. RESULTS!!! i love new friends. then met guy who wrote my fiction class book and said no to kids and told me to re-write adult with three plots and began to break it down and lots of advice and i'm not going to bore you. then met with bonnie grove to ask some questions and wow did i get answers! she grabbed my kids book and read a bit and said: awesome voice, very original and to stick with it. tighten it. fix the presentation (indents and whatnot) and gave me two books to read. told me it was a brilliant idea and the book would do extremely well. (!!!!)
then went to dinner and sat with janice dick and she said immediately "bonnie loves your book". (!!!!!)
after dinner i had to leave. i couldn't take anymore sitting on my butt and i've eaten too many carbs and meats (like i minded) so i hit the mall and after a soy chail latte, bought some stuff because i couldnt' help myself. then came back to hotel where i am trying to organize my thoughts, my papers and pack for check out tomorrow. i will be leaving at 3 instead of 5 because i really want to get home by 9 and i don't want to get lost in the dark.
so tomorrow i meet with literary agent person and we'll chat. he's the same agent who's worked with very important people! stormie o'martian! tim lahey! gaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!!
plan of attack: rewrite for two weeks and send the sucker off!!!
cloud nine is coming.....
and tomorrow i get to sleep in cloud bed. :)
so i got here on wednesday, as you have read the other blog from wednesday. thursday morning i woke up and drove to chapters to get some good quality God time. it was awesome. i drove to the conference and registered. then i walked around so i could find where i was going but it made no difference because i couldn't find anything anyways.
so i attended the first session on: why you are here and where are you going? i already knew why i was there (to sell a book darnit!) and where i was going didnt' help much.
met two very nice ladies. one which happens to be a minister's wife from nb, and is moving to arnprior! hello? here's my card babe, i'm 20 minutes from you! she's young, is on her third child...typical minister's wife i think. love her. met another girl who writes 'historical fiction'. seriously? i had no idea what that was until this weekend. basically it's a mushy romance book based before 1950. huh. i asked what her plot was and it sounds pretty juicy and i may have to beg her to let me read it.
went to next class on 'idiot's guide to Christian fiction'. guy who wrote the book is teaching the class and there are 5 classes. i've been to 3 so far and they are fascinating.
at dinner i positioned myself right at 'important person i wanted to talk to' from zondervan. we chatted. i pitched my book. regardless of the fact that he doesn't take kids' books, he offered to read it. fabulous! and i think i made a new friend because i kept shoving my foot in my mouth and he seemed to enjoy it. i guess he likes loud, abrasive people. fabulous! inside joke being 'you're in canada!' duh.
another class...er...uh...hm...'getting your book published in canada'. which was very interesting. afterwards i hit up 'important person i want to talk to' from harpercollins. who doesn't take kids books. but after i spoke to him, he gave me his card and told me to email the manuscript to him and he'd give it to the right people. fabulous!!!
got back to hotel at 10:30, shrieking the entire way, had to take a gravol so i could actually sleep, and slept.
woke up at 7 with that wonderful 'did i just drink all night?' feeling in my mouth. found pillow in my mouth. huh. serves me right for going to bed without a snack in my belly.
got my latte (!!!) and headed to breakfast. managed to snag table with 'important person i want to talk to' literary agent guy and he told the entire table to just start pitching him. so i did. knowing he doesn't do kids books. oh! you do kids books? huh. well....blah blah. he gave me his email address and told me to send him the manuscript but to write an awesome cover letter. i have to 'SELL' the book to him. huh. fabulous!
went to more workshops. my mind is a blur. listened to 'what is a platform and why do i need one' and figured i probably don't need one.
oh, oh! i'm out of order. ok, i had my manuscript critique with fabulous Janice Dick (yes i'm including names now!) and she critiqued me very...uh...constructively. love her. said i had a 'fresh new voice'. eeee!!! told me to tighten it, fix the grammar (sorry burb!) and remove a lot of the tangents. okeedokee.
so today, i met 4 people to talk about kids book and the new 'contemporary fiction' one i've half written. except i don't know if it's contemporary fiction. maybe it's memoire? no idea. anyhoo...
met with one publisher who said no to kids, yes to adult - send proposal. okeedokee. next met with zondervan guy again, just to harass as he is now a friend, and pitched adult book. RESULTS!!! i love new friends. then met guy who wrote my fiction class book and said no to kids and told me to re-write adult with three plots and began to break it down and lots of advice and i'm not going to bore you. then met with bonnie grove to ask some questions and wow did i get answers! she grabbed my kids book and read a bit and said: awesome voice, very original and to stick with it. tighten it. fix the presentation (indents and whatnot) and gave me two books to read. told me it was a brilliant idea and the book would do extremely well. (!!!!)
then went to dinner and sat with janice dick and she said immediately "bonnie loves your book". (!!!!!)
after dinner i had to leave. i couldn't take anymore sitting on my butt and i've eaten too many carbs and meats (like i minded) so i hit the mall and after a soy chail latte, bought some stuff because i couldnt' help myself. then came back to hotel where i am trying to organize my thoughts, my papers and pack for check out tomorrow. i will be leaving at 3 instead of 5 because i really want to get home by 9 and i don't want to get lost in the dark.
so tomorrow i meet with literary agent person and we'll chat. he's the same agent who's worked with very important people! stormie o'martian! tim lahey! gaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!!
plan of attack: rewrite for two weeks and send the sucker off!!!
cloud nine is coming.....
and tomorrow i get to sleep in cloud bed. :)
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
morning of driving
Of course I didn't sleep well. I mean, I slept well enough. There was a lovely cool breeze last night so the windows were open and the earplugs were jammed into my ears. I didn't even hear rockstar hubby snore. Although I did poke him in the face twice for twitching.
I woke up at 4, but got out of bed at 4:45 and had a shower. Then dressed and ate. I was on the road by 5:30.
My first stop was to be Kingston, at Starbucks.
At 6am I began to yawn. A lot. My eyelids were very heavy and I realized I had forgotten to put the 'book on tape' onto my Ipod. So I turned on the tunes. But I was still very sleepy.
I pulled into Kingston and saw the sign for the 401. Perfect. I'll just come right back here.
As I followed my directions to Starbucks, I couldn't find Montreal Road. Huh. So I followed everyone else and passed the RMC and then went over the bridge to downtown. Where else would it be?
I ended up on Princess Street and then Wellington where I knew it was there somewhere. And as I found the Indigo and the Starbucks I had the prime parking spot out front.
Closed until 9am.
Seeing as how it was 7:30, I decided not to wait. I got very crabby and then I saw a Second Cup. Fabulous!
I used their washroom which was strangely dirty and gross and ordered a latte. As soon as I took a sip, I knew it would be crap. And it was. I got into my car rather gruntled, and saw a boy crossing the street with a Starbucks cup in his hand. I quickly jumped out.
"Oy! Where'd ya get the Starbucks!"
He pointed down the street.
And so I went.
It took me 5 minutes to find parking because I had no idea where I was going. Down the street does not mean there will be parking available.
So I found it and went in.
And she made it wrong.
Nonetheless I got back in my car and was on my way.
Er...
Ok, so I'm ON Wellington, I just have to find Queen street. Ah there it is. No wait, huh. Ok, it's Ontario Street. Well, maybe they just renamed Montreal street, Ottawa. So I followed it.
Oh yes, now I know where I'm going.
over the bridge, past the RMC.
Um...
huh.
Where's the hwy?
10 minutes later...
Why am I in Joyceville???? Oh, there's the 401. Huh. It sure is taking a long time to get there. Ah, I'm here. Get on.
15 minutes later...
Hey, there's the 15! And Montreal Street. Huh. I guess I was supposed to get off there? what? whatever.
Stopped for pee at rest stop near Belleville. The famous mcdonald's esso thingy.
huh. no running water.
I'm peeing anyways.
Do you know what it's like to pee on top of other pee? Like, a lot of other pee?
Pen runs out as i write down adventure in book. Yes I had travel wipes.
Ya.
Back on the hwy.
Singing the whole way to Oshawa. Got off in Oshawa.
Wrong exit.
Got directions.
Back on 401.
Right exit.
Starbucks!
Lalalalalala!
Screwed up my drink. Cashier and drive through guy kept staring at me and laughing. Check nose for boogies.
Maybe they're looking at me cause I'm hot?
huh. Sure. I'll believe that instead.
where is the 407?
huh.
ask for directions.
ah, didn't go far enough.
on 407.
running low on gas.
huh.
well, i'm not getting off there. or there. or there. nope. not there. huh.
ah! the 401! yes, yes, i'll go fill up.
esso!
gas.
water.
hmmm. no bathroom.
coffee time across road!
'must be paying customer to use washroom'
i buy a cranberry juice.
have thought: would i be arrested for not buying anything? would they kick my car? throw stale powdered donuts at my head? hm...am debating stopping there on the way home and not buying anything just to use their bathroom.
ah, guelph exit.
no wait, not it.
there it is!
huh. where am i?
oops. wrong exit.
back on track!
hotel!!!
yay!
wireless internet for free!
yay!
going shopping now.
I woke up at 4, but got out of bed at 4:45 and had a shower. Then dressed and ate. I was on the road by 5:30.
My first stop was to be Kingston, at Starbucks.
At 6am I began to yawn. A lot. My eyelids were very heavy and I realized I had forgotten to put the 'book on tape' onto my Ipod. So I turned on the tunes. But I was still very sleepy.
I pulled into Kingston and saw the sign for the 401. Perfect. I'll just come right back here.
As I followed my directions to Starbucks, I couldn't find Montreal Road. Huh. So I followed everyone else and passed the RMC and then went over the bridge to downtown. Where else would it be?
I ended up on Princess Street and then Wellington where I knew it was there somewhere. And as I found the Indigo and the Starbucks I had the prime parking spot out front.
Closed until 9am.
Seeing as how it was 7:30, I decided not to wait. I got very crabby and then I saw a Second Cup. Fabulous!
I used their washroom which was strangely dirty and gross and ordered a latte. As soon as I took a sip, I knew it would be crap. And it was. I got into my car rather gruntled, and saw a boy crossing the street with a Starbucks cup in his hand. I quickly jumped out.
"Oy! Where'd ya get the Starbucks!"
He pointed down the street.
And so I went.
It took me 5 minutes to find parking because I had no idea where I was going. Down the street does not mean there will be parking available.
So I found it and went in.
And she made it wrong.
Nonetheless I got back in my car and was on my way.
Er...
Ok, so I'm ON Wellington, I just have to find Queen street. Ah there it is. No wait, huh. Ok, it's Ontario Street. Well, maybe they just renamed Montreal street, Ottawa. So I followed it.
Oh yes, now I know where I'm going.
over the bridge, past the RMC.
Um...
huh.
Where's the hwy?
10 minutes later...
Why am I in Joyceville???? Oh, there's the 401. Huh. It sure is taking a long time to get there. Ah, I'm here. Get on.
15 minutes later...
Hey, there's the 15! And Montreal Street. Huh. I guess I was supposed to get off there? what? whatever.
Stopped for pee at rest stop near Belleville. The famous mcdonald's esso thingy.
huh. no running water.
I'm peeing anyways.
Do you know what it's like to pee on top of other pee? Like, a lot of other pee?
Pen runs out as i write down adventure in book. Yes I had travel wipes.
Ya.
Back on the hwy.
Singing the whole way to Oshawa. Got off in Oshawa.
Wrong exit.
Got directions.
Back on 401.
Right exit.
Starbucks!
Lalalalalala!
Screwed up my drink. Cashier and drive through guy kept staring at me and laughing. Check nose for boogies.
Maybe they're looking at me cause I'm hot?
huh. Sure. I'll believe that instead.
where is the 407?
huh.
ask for directions.
ah, didn't go far enough.
on 407.
running low on gas.
huh.
well, i'm not getting off there. or there. or there. nope. not there. huh.
ah! the 401! yes, yes, i'll go fill up.
esso!
gas.
water.
hmmm. no bathroom.
coffee time across road!
'must be paying customer to use washroom'
i buy a cranberry juice.
have thought: would i be arrested for not buying anything? would they kick my car? throw stale powdered donuts at my head? hm...am debating stopping there on the way home and not buying anything just to use their bathroom.
ah, guelph exit.
no wait, not it.
there it is!
huh. where am i?
oops. wrong exit.
back on track!
hotel!!!
yay!
wireless internet for free!
yay!
going shopping now.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Dream a Little Dream
So...tomorrow I leave at 5ish to go to Guelph.
The Guelph Writer's Guild Conference.
Where there will be publishers, agents and editors and other writers.
I get to spend tomorrow all by myself.
I get to stay in a hotel room all by myself.
Will it happen?
I have my 10 outfits, my three pairs of shoes, my three toiletry kits.
I have 20 Bio's, 10 copies of Chapters 4-5, 10 copies of first Chapters.
I have a full tank of gas, some cash, my map routed out with two stops at Starbucks (Kingston and Whitby).
I still have to pack my papers, my laptop and my bible.
I think I'm bringing too much. Is that possible?
Is it time?
Will it finally happen?
Is this the dream I've been waiting for?
The Guelph Writer's Guild Conference.
Where there will be publishers, agents and editors and other writers.
I get to spend tomorrow all by myself.
I get to stay in a hotel room all by myself.
Will it happen?
I have my 10 outfits, my three pairs of shoes, my three toiletry kits.
I have 20 Bio's, 10 copies of Chapters 4-5, 10 copies of first Chapters.
I have a full tank of gas, some cash, my map routed out with two stops at Starbucks (Kingston and Whitby).
I still have to pack my papers, my laptop and my bible.
I think I'm bringing too much. Is that possible?
Is it time?
Will it finally happen?
Is this the dream I've been waiting for?
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
text messaging
huh. This is the second message I've received from someone texting me that they love me. Which is very sweet.
Except I have no idea who this person is.
The first text message was on my husband's cell phone.
Of course I was a tad suspicious. Who wouldn't be? Then I asked him about it, and of course he denied it.
Which made me more suspicious.
And then I fell on the floor laughing because I realized that my husband has no idea what text messaging is, nor how to do it.
Today's text message was on my phone line. So I called them back, and a girl answered then promptly hung up on me. So I called back and listened to her voicemail.
I think she's ten.
Except I have no idea who this person is.
The first text message was on my husband's cell phone.
Of course I was a tad suspicious. Who wouldn't be? Then I asked him about it, and of course he denied it.
Which made me more suspicious.
And then I fell on the floor laughing because I realized that my husband has no idea what text messaging is, nor how to do it.
Today's text message was on my phone line. So I called them back, and a girl answered then promptly hung up on me. So I called back and listened to her voicemail.
I think she's ten.
Today's deep thought
If my neurotic dog licks the floor clean whenever food is dropped, why won't she lick my cabinets?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Business cards
I am officially a grown-up.
Yes I know 34 is a little too late to decide to be a grown-up and I'm still not sure I am one, as I tell the gaffer repeatedly "I am a beautiful princess, not a grown-up", but:
I. Have. Business Cards.
Oh yes.
And they look fabulous.
They say my name, then underneath it says: writer, artist, garden goddess.
and then a link to my blog.
Which means I need to write witty, important things on my blog now as I am searching agents and publishers and a need to be taken somewhat seriously. Perhaps I should start a silly blog? Or maybe I'll just be me, and continue with the silliness and then whoever reads my blog will know that I am the real deal and I am not TRYING to be funny, but actually I AM funny.
At least I think I am.
Yes I know 34 is a little too late to decide to be a grown-up and I'm still not sure I am one, as I tell the gaffer repeatedly "I am a beautiful princess, not a grown-up", but:
I. Have. Business Cards.
Oh yes.
And they look fabulous.
They say my name, then underneath it says: writer, artist, garden goddess.
and then a link to my blog.
Which means I need to write witty, important things on my blog now as I am searching agents and publishers and a need to be taken somewhat seriously. Perhaps I should start a silly blog? Or maybe I'll just be me, and continue with the silliness and then whoever reads my blog will know that I am the real deal and I am not TRYING to be funny, but actually I AM funny.
At least I think I am.
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