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My writing goal: to publish one of my books, the mainstream way, by the time I am 40. I have two years. I think that is a reasonable goal. Reasonable because, breaking into the publishing market is an incredibly difficult process. If it doesn’t happen, well then, I will *gasp* self publish—become an Indy published writer.
I write fiction. I write general fiction. I write for women. My stories are character driven. I do not have any vampires or werewolves or paranormal events, sorry. Though I am thinking (just for fun come November’s National Novel Writing Month) finishing my zombie/western. I know, you’re like WHAT??? That’s weird. I agree. It is completely not my style. But this last week, my critique group thought it would be fun to do a writing exercise—write a beginning for a novel in a genre that is out of our element and comfort zone. One of the ladies chose to write a fantasy/scifi, which I think has to be one of the hardest and yet most creative genre’s out there. She struggled writing it. It took her several days. But wow, the end product was amazing. The other lady in the group, who normally writes fantasy for young adults, decided to write a romance. Once again, it was great. First, I wrote a suspense/M. Knight Shayamalan kind of beginning. In jest, I mentioned the zombie/western and one of the ladies in the group egged me on to give it a try. Writing exercises are fun. Exploring other genres opened up a world of possibilities. Why be limited? I can tell you what is not fun though—writing a query. The query is what you send out to prospective literary agents. A query has to be the hardest thing to write of all. Imagine taking your 80,000 word novel and trying to sum it up, condense it if you will, into a 300 word blub. Plus it has to be exciting enough to get an agent to “bite” or ask for more (like the first 3 chapters, etc . . . of the novel). It is incredibly difficult. It is a writing exercise in itself. I have pulled out a lot of hair over it. The query is the mechanics of selling a novel—it isn’t fun at all and can make you question your desire to be writer. Is it worth it? I have written my query for my novel called Desert Rice perhaps, I don’t know . . . twenty times or more. I still don’t think it is right, but I do know that it is much improved from the first one. So, here is my query. Please feel free to let me know what you think. Sound to general? Boring? Interesting? What? Honestly, I would love to know. If you read this on the back cover of a book, would it intrigue you enough to buy it? That’s the sort of thing I’m looking for. Since most of you read this blog, but NEVER respond, I’m expecting silence. (But, please help if you think you can): Samantha Jean Haggert is a beautiful twelve-year-old girl. But no one knows it. All they see is an awkward boy in a baseball cap and baggy pants. Sam’s not thrilled with the idea of hiding her identity, but it’s all a part of her older brother’s plan: a plan to keep Sam safe from male attention and keep her hidden from the law. Fifteen-year-old Jacob will stop at nothing to protect his sister; including concealing the death of the one person who should have protected them in the first place—their mother. Sam and Jacob try to outrun their past by stealing the family car and traveling from West Virginia to Arizona, but the adult world proves mighty difficult to navigate, especially for two kids all on their own. Trusting adults has never been an option. Not because they don’t want to, but because no adult has ever given them a good enough reason to let down their guard. But when Sam meets “Jesus” in the park—a man who smells an awful lot like a horse—life takes a different turn. He saved her once, and maybe he would be willing to save her and her brother again, if only they admit what took place that fateful day in West Virginia. The problem . . . Sam doesn’t remember, and Jacob isn’t talking. An adult novel, Desert Rice, is complete at 74,000 words.
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I love MacGyver. I really, really do—well, my very own MacGyver that is.
This is the update to my replacing the showerhead fiasco that I blogged about earlier (scan down if you missed it). Anyway, Scott is amazing. It makes me think of cheers from high school, “If Scott can’t fix it, no one can!” or “Give me an S. Give me a C. Give me a O and two T’s. What that spell? SCOTT! SCOTT! SCOTT!” Well, my man—my MacGyver—fixed the bathroom/shower issue. He researched the problem on- line (all answers can be found on the internet) and also discussed the problem with a plumber friend of ours. The answer: he needed to buy a nipple extractor. Sounds nasty and perverted, but this is an actual plumbing tool in which to remove broken threaded pipes (You do realize that a man probably named that tool, right?) You insert the “tool,” as we will call it from now on, and it will unscrew the part of the pipe that has broken. Well, Scott did it. Buy removing that tiny piece of pipe from the inside of the wall, all Scott had to do was replace the broken pipe, attach the new showerhead and wah-la—a fully-functioning shower without having to bust a hole in the wall and do a full remodel (which in some ways is sad, because a remodeled bathroom would have been sweet, though painful and tedious). From Scott’s research on-line, it appears (he said) a lot of wives have broken the shower pipe while trying to attach a new showerhead. This isn’t a new problem, which makes me feel better J So technically, I would think it is the whole plumbing design that is at fault here, not me. That is my argument anyway, and I’m sticking to it. There appears to be nothing that my guy can’t fix. And if ever there comes a time that there is, I will surly blog about it J (There’s some pressure for my husband right there). My home page on the internet is iGoogle. I can see if I have any new emails, check the weather, get top stories from the Salt Lake Tribune and Tip’s for the day. Today’s tip column had “How to Enjoy Running.” Boy, that peeked my interest—enjoy running. This is something I would like to know.
I clicked on the link. Tell me the secret oh great and noble running expert. Tell me how to enjoy running, because for the most part, I don’t much enjoy it all. Since the Ragnar, I have run exactly . . . zero times. Sad, but true. I don’t want to lose what strength and perseverance I have gained (I have gained some). But at the same time, I have nothing pushing me, no goals to make me pick up my gear and go for a run. My desire is gone. So anyway, I saw this tip and I thought *INSPIRSTION*. I was ready for some insight, something new I didn’t know about, some secret that has eluded me all this time. This is what I got: http://www.wikihow.com/Enjoy-Running 1) LISTEN TO MUSIC . . . Okay. That’s it? What? Nothing new there. I already listen to music, highly upbeat music. And it doesn’t help much. On to step two. 2) SWITCH IT UP. RUN IN DIFFERENT LOCATIONS . . . Okay. I already do that too. Hmm, maybe step three will be better and more insightful. 3) DON’T RUN TOO HARD. . . OKAY!!! There we go. Now we’re talking. It goes on to say “Put away the competitive running when you’re running for fun” and also “Put away the stopwatch”. Competitive? Stop watch? WHAT??? Ha,ha,ha. That’s funny. But I do like the “Don’t run too hard.” That I can do. 4) USE MENTAL TRAINING SKILLS TO OVERCOME YOUR MIND-SPEAK THAT SUGGESTS YOU STOP . . . Okay. I have already said that the mind over matter doesn’t work for me. My matter is really, really strong-willed. I am weak and I give in. I’m not one for pain and suffering. I’m a “take it easy” kinda gal. 5) STRETCH . . . now this article is just becoming BLAH,BLAH,BLAH. Stretching ain’t fun either. Now I need an article to tell me HOW TO ENJOY STRETCHING. 6) RUN PROPERLY . . . What?? “Use good running technique.” Maybe that’s my problem. My technique is “get ‘er done.” Run from here to there. What more “technique” is there than that? 7) RUN WITH FRIENDS . . . Well, that just blows. All my running friends are really fast runners. They can go the distance. (I hate them). If ever there is a bear chasing us, I’m going to jump on their backs and have them carry me—they’re that quick. Run with a friend, my behind :P 8) HAVE REST PERIODS . . . Now I’m listening. What kind of rest periods? Run a little, walk a little, drink a diet Pepsi, go shopping, run a little more, get a massage, walk home? Wait. No? Dag nab it. The article suggests run and then take a “break” and go swimming or some other kind of exercise to “switch it up.” That’s not fun. That’s not enjoyable—especially the swimming part. Swimming means putting on a suit. Okay, number nine better be good. Tell me something I need to know number nine. This is it. This is the last bit of advice to help me enjoy running. 9) LISTEN TO YOURSELF . . . I am! I am! Myself says, “Running ain’t fun. Relaxing and kicking back with a good book or, better yet, my laptop, is much more enjoyable.” Actually, this article indicates that listening to yourself and recognize the “unusual” aches and pains. Thus suggesting there is normal aches and pains to be experienced. Well, I didn’t learn a thing to make running more enjoyable. So my question is, make running more enjoyable than WHAT? I do enjoy running more than root canals. I enjoy running more than kidney stones. I enjoy running more than allergies, being bitten by a dog, doing laundry, pulling weeds, hitting my funny bone, the flu, yearly exams, or brain freezes. So in that essence, okay. I do enjoy running. But boy, I sure can think of a bunch of stuff I like a whole lot more. This article taught me nothing. Two thumbs down from me. I mean, I was expecting it to say something like: 1) Run while eating a double scoop ice cream cone. (That could totally be fun) 2) Run with a juggling clown. (I’m laughing all ready). 3) Run while listening to “The Office” or “Modern Family” or “In the Middle.” (Those shows crack me up). 4) Run while wearing rose colored glasses. (Oooohhh . . . I love pink). 5) Run while dressed from head to toe in pink, while listening to Pink, and drinking strawberry milk and chewing pink bubblegum. (This one is my favorite). 6) Run with a parrot on your shoulder and a patch over your eye. (One of these days, I’m going to do it too. Just you wait.) 7) Run while carrying a fake Olympic torch. (Could you imagine?) 8) Run around the exterior of your favorite store, or better yet, run around the INTERIOR of your favorite store. (Khol’s, here I come). 9) Run while screaming, “The aliens are coming! The aliens are coming!” (See, these suggestions are fun and would TOTALLY make running much more enjoyable and interesting). *If any of you should happen to utilize and actually do any of my above suggestions, and can prove it, I will send you a crisp $1 dollar bill. IF you do numbers #5, #6, or #8, I will send you TEN crisp dollar bills. (Proof is a must). *I am thinking about running a 5K on the 21st of August, but my desire level is nil. I need a goal, but I don’t want a goal. It’s a tug a war. So, we’ll see. Okay, remember how I talked about my husband being MacGyver and fixing my computer (computer power cord working liking a charm by the way), and how I tend to break things that he ultimately has to fix? Remember that? (Scroll down in blog entries if you don’t).
Well, I broke something. Surprise, surprise, right? For the last few mornings, taking a shower is more like taking a dribble—not a shower at all. Scott soaked the showerhead in Lime-A-Way, but it didn’t seem to help. This morning’s shower was a joke—drip, drip, spit some water, drip, drip. I went and bought a new showerhead. That’s a good thing, or so I thought. Then I tried to install it. Not such a good thing. Someone should have stopped me, because a plumber I am not. I couldn’t get the old one off, so I twisted and twisted. I got out the pliers and twisted some more. The stupid thing just wouldn’t budge. Dag nab it! I figured if I just tried a little harder-- Snap! I turned on the water, and all the water now runs down the tile and the metal pipe-pole is VERY, VERY loose. None of the water makes it to the showerhead. I think I completely made the situation worse. Shouldn’t it be easy to put a new showerhead on? Yeah, it should. That’s what I thought. Easy-Peasy. But NOOO!! I called Scott. “Hi,” I said. “You love me, right?” He hesitated. “Yeah.” He dragged out the word, fearful of where this conversation was leading. “Why? How much is this going to cost me?” (He knows me too well). “It shouldn’t cost a thing,” I said. (I’m pretty sure it’s going to cost something). “All I need from you is your time and MacGyver skills.” “What did you do?” I proceeded to tell him how I was such a good wife that I had thought I would surprise him with a fully-functioning shower and that I kind of installed a new showerhead, but “somehow” it wasn’t working right. “There’s a leak,” I said. He expelled his breath slowly on the on the phone. “I assume it’s a big leak, right?” “Well,” I said. “What do you mean by ‘a big leak’ exactly?” Silence. “I love you,” I said. After a moment. “I love you too. I will look at it when I get home. You know I spent all day yesterday repairing and replacing a sprinkler valve, right?” “Yes!” I said. “That you did, and I had NOTHING to do with that.” (Which is true, by the way. I don’t even know how to turn on the sprinklers. The sprinkler valve had nothing to do with me). “And since you were sooo good at fixing that problem, you should be a whiz at fixing this one. I know you can do it.” Silence. “I love you,” I said. “I love you too.” **Update: Scott is home. He just came out of the bathroom holding the entire showerhead—pipe device. “What did you do?” “I didn’t do that,” I said. “That was still attached to the wall when I left. It was a little loose, but attached.” “You broke it.” “No I didn’t,” I insisted. “It was still hooked.” “By a little metal piece of pipe—” “YOU broke it!” “Angela.” He looked at me with a great deal of irritation. “I didn’t mean too.” He expelled his breath again. (He looked like one of those guys with the smoke coming out of his ears, but without the smoke part). “You broke it the worst possible way. I’m going to have to tear a HUGE hole into the wall to fix it. I am going to have to retile the WHOLE shower. We are not going to be able to use this shower for a VERY long time. Do you understand just what trouble you have caused here? ” “YES!” I say. “I do understand. I will never, ever do it again—EVER. A total cross-over-the-heart-promise.” He nods with squinted eyes, resigning himself to the fact that what is done, is done. “But can you fix it by tomorrow morning?” **UPDATE: Scott is NOT happy with me at all. I REALLY, REALLY broke the shower. We may have to remodel the whole bathroom now. He thinks we may have to *gasp* call a plumber. Now that I have resided in Texas for nearly two weeks, I feel I now have ample justification for my judgments of the fine state of Texas (you only need about two weeks to sum up any state, right?) Of course, I am no expert. I jest.
BUT, I have learned a few things about Texas that I would love to share with ya all out there who just might be fixin’ to wander out this here way for a hankerin’ for some fine BBQ and some good ol’ home hospitality. (Holy crap, Texas is rubbing off on me . . . I need to get back to Utah where we don’t say out “T’s” . . . such as moun’ain and the city of Lay’on. For the longest time, I thought my maiden name should sound like Hel’on. It’s actually Helton. I saw the T; I just never said it). Anyway, back to Texas. The first thing I noticed right away, was that there is a big drug problem here in Texas. It’s true. Everyone here is on drugs. I’m not kidding. Let me explain. The reason I know this (for a fact) is that on nearly every corner you will find a Walgreens or CVS pharmacy. Seriously, EVERY corner. There is not a corner lacking one. I would see a CVS pharmacy and think I’m close to my sister-in-law’s house (she lives down the street from one). But I learned quickly, CVS pharmacy’s cannot be used as a landmark. There’s one on Teel Street, Main Street, Preston Road, Legacy Drive, Lebanon Road, and FM Road 423. That is only Frisco. Plano has plenty and so does Arlington and Denton too. Now, I haven’t seen the whole state of Texas, but if you need six CVS pharmacies and three Walgreens in one city—then people in Texas are drug addicts. No doubt. Second thing I noticed about Texas . . . SUV’s. Everyone has one. No kidding. AND, pray tell, WHY??? Why would anyone need an SUV in Texas? There are no mountains to climb, or 50 inches of snow to drive through like we get back home in Utah. So why so many gas guzzlers? I don’t get it. I would guess they only come in 2-wheel drive here, right? Now, I could see everyone owning a big ol’ truck (because that’s stereotypical and expected) but I see very few of those driving around. Just lots of Texas ladies in SUV’s. Oh, wait . . . doesn't Texas have a lot of oil? Oh, now I get it. Silly me. Third thing, Texas doesn’t get carried away with being creative in naming their business’. They keep it simple and to the point. I like it. You always know what you’re getting. Take for instance, there is a business I have seen simply called “Donuts." Nothing more. Nothing less. I assume they sell donuts and that’s all. You would walk in and cannot expect “fancy” donuts or “plain” donuts. You can’t walk in and expect anything, just donuts. They can’t fail that way. Also, there is a business called “Bike’s for Bikers." Same principle. Or another “Cute Nails." Now, this one went out on a limb here, because had they simply said “Nails” and nothing more, you couldn’t have any expectations. But since they put the “Cute” in front, then gosh darn it, my nails better be cute. Again, you know exactly what you are getting. Fourth thing, at least in the Frisco and neighboring cities, everything is new. Everything—the houses, the business’, the schools and churches. All new. There is nothing old here. AND because everything is so new looking, everything looks the same. I’m sorry, Texas, but it does. Homes in similar communities and business’ in similar shopping malls (and don’t forget the CVS pharmacy on the corner). Creative personality—not so much. Cleanliness and posh looking—very. It’s pretty and fresh, and everything is well maintained. They have rules here that homeowners and business’ must follow. They do very well too in following them. In Utah, well, we’re just glad to have ya—do what you want. Some other things I learned: --The grass is weird, it’s the kind of grass that back home we try and kill. --The weather is humid, humid, humid. The shade is still hot and sticky. Humidity is awful. But, I haven’t had to use lotion the whole time I have been here. I also gave up curling my hair. It’s a wasted effort. --The water tastes funny and my kids keep asking why “Is this water cleaned? They don’t pump it right from the lake, do they?” --There are even more nail salons than there are pharmacies. Three times the number, in fact. But I think the biggest thing I have noticed and learned, people are very friendly here. Neighbors are kind. Communities are kind. People are helpful. It’s a good place. We have had a blast while here. Thank you Texas for having us. |
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