I am a To Do list fanatic. I have one for work and one for my personal life. Grocery lists, household needs lists, The Princess lists – you name it, I have it. Actually, if I put a word count to meet daily on a To Do list, I would probably meet it almost every time.
… I should probably start doing that.
I am very forgetful. Being pregnant just made it worse, but I have forever forgotten things. My mom used to tell me about her days as a teen and how she would often forget where she lived or what her phone number was out of the blue. I was terrified, because I have inherited an unbelievably amount of traits from my mother. Call me Susan Jr – it would be fairly accurate.
Regardless, these lists help keep me on track so I don’t forget things. I’ve had a little notepad for the move, and it’s finally – FINALLY – almost complete. I did a little happy dance at work.
CHANGE ADDRESS AT DAYCARE – check.
SET UP ELECTRICITY – check. Double checks because it’s wind power.
SET UP INTERNET – check.
CANCEL 24 HOUR MEMBERSHIP BECAUSE THEY ARE DIRTY, MONEY STEALING HOES – check.
CHANGE OF ADDRESS AT POST OFFICE – check.
All that’s left is changing my bank information & the Attorney General records, but those are packed away and must wait until next week. Tomorrow I sign the lease and move in, so we are all set to go. Won’t have internet until Tuesday over there, so I’m hoping I can mooch off of a neighbor for a while.
As for Haze Grey, we are starting the game plan. This project sits on a very personal level for not only myself, but a whole panel of girls I have consulted. Right now I’m busy trying to create the backstories for all of my main characters to plan out the events in the plot. The idea is to be as relatable as possible to as many victims as possible, so everyone who has participated – myself included – is having personal details chopped and switched and mashed.
I don’t want anyone involved to one day read it and say, “Oh my God. She just put my entire private life out there.” Given the circumstances of the book, no one needs to be exposed like that. So it’s a delicate balancing act to get everything reassembled with something else, yet maintain that air of similarity.
I cannot seem to distance myself as much as I would like, so it’s taking a little longer than hoped. I read somewhere once that we should never take our whole selves, situations, or life events and copy them exactly into a book. Trying to avoid that. It’s a little rough. But we are getting there, and I’m really excited.
Blame it on the Weatherman was an idea that had sat with me for years, simply because I liked the format idea. I had no plot, just a format. I didn’t even follow the format. Enormous weight was lifted because it was finally accomplished, but nothing else. I don’t have the emotional attachment to it I need to keep going.
But Haze Grey is coming together nicely. I’m excited to dive in, but the prep work is beyond crucial. Additionally, I have a lot of research to catch up as I have been out of the military lifestyle for several years now. I need a refresher course. All in due time.
Well, lunch break came and went – thanks for keeping me on hold for a million years, 24 Hour Scumbags – so I must be off. Shhh! Don’t tell anyone I have a notebook and pencil up here I am using to work on my next project….
I have a feeling BioWith & I are about to part ways for a bit. I can’t keep my focus on it. Instead, Haze Grey keeps jumping into the forefront of my mind, begging to be heard.
I was going to ign0re her. I have my loyalties, by golly. I have to complete it as much as I feel comfortable before June so I can get a printed copy. I had an outline for my plan of attack to finish!
I think the problem is that I’m forcing it. BioWith works wonderfully when it just flows. I can see it in my manuscript. When I’m just writing, it was witty and sharp and everything I wanted it to be. When I was plowing through words in mad dashes to catch up, it’s jilted and coarse.
Right now, BioWith is limping.
I think it’s time we continue our break and I move forward with Haze Grey. Just for a little while.
I’m sorry, old friend. I just need my space. I’ll be back – I promise.
Let me preface by saying this blog has always ever been for the sole purpose of documenting my trek to becoming a published author. On occasion, snipits of my “real” life will filter through, but it is who I am and what fuels my creativity and story. Just pretend this is no different.
I have a two year old. To be precise, she is 2 years, 4 months, 1 week, and 5 days old. She is sunny, sweet, funny, and entirely too smart. She is polite, generally well behaved, and a tiny adult. She is stubborn, independent, self-assured, and cocky in that adorable toddler sort of way. She is a smart alleck, a story teller, a singer, and a fantastic hugger. I know I’m slightly biased, but she’s pretty friggin awesome.
There is no denying she is my child. None. If she acts like a smart alleck – which is increasingly more often than not – all I hear from people around me is, “Gee, wonder where she got that from….” Yes, yes – I get it. I’m a smart ass & proud. My daughter will one day thank me for the lessons I’ve instilled in her since birth.
IF I DON’T KILL HER FIRST.
When I say she is polite and well-mannered, I’m being very serious. Aside from the jokes those closest to me like to tell, the number one compliment is how polite & well behaved she is. “She’s two? What is your secret?!”
I do not play the role of her friend. I am not her friend. I am her MOTHER. Her single(ish) Mother who has singularly rasied her since birth to be awesome, polite, and won’t acknowledge hissyfits. Whining gets you sent to bed. And yes, I do have a Monkey backpack with a tail/leash that I use in crowded public places, such as the Houston Zoo. And you can glare at me all you like – IT WORKS. She can run around & not feel hindered; I don’t have to worry about her falling into a Monkey pit or getting stolen. She learns independence while still acknowledging she is too young to go out on her own. So, call me a bad parent – but whatever it is I’m doing is working incredibly well.
And so her tumble into the Terrible Twos & Threes is relatively lowkey. I acknowledge this. I applaud this. I still hate this. Some days I want to shake her & go “WTF, MATE?” From happy to bawling & screaming in about 5.2 seconds. I’ve long been forewarned about these days, but I underestimated how spoiled I was becoming.
The worst part is holding firm. I know she’s pushing boundaries. I know she’s exploring new emotions and frustrations; learning that she can’t get away with everything; beginning to realize that actions have consequences. I know these are difficult concepts to grasp when you’ve spent your entire little life up until this point thinking the world centers around you. Lessons learned as she gains independence she didn’t have before.
I know these are good things. I know she’s learning. I know she’s gaining the personality traits I hoped and prayed she would receive. I know she’s starting down the long path to becoming the kickass person I always knew she’d become (you know, because she’s just like her Mom). But what was it they always say? Oh yeah -
BECAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR!
Last night, I had a two hour chat with my mom in the middle of the night – which I promptly regretted when the alarm went off at 5:30 this morning – about this very thing. About how I felt like an awful parent for having to get on to her more now than ever before. About how it killed me on the inside to yell at her and put her in timeout. About how I hated having to play both Mom and Dad, which means I was always going to be the bad guy until she was old enough to know better… which could easily take two decades.
She talked me down from my philosophical ledge and assured me this was beyond normal. I didn’t necessarily feel better, but it helped. Things like this are easier to stomach when you know that you aren’t alone.
Nevertheless, I feel like my plate will only get fuller – and I have no idea how I’m going to juggle that, work, school, The Man & my books. OI. I need a clone. I’d like to pass off the whining, fussing, obnoxious child to her…
I just need a moment to vent. Forgive me.
WHY IS IT that all of these awful books I seem to stumble upon are getting published & yet here I am, pecking away at keys with the ever constant fear that I’ll never succeed? HOW is this possible?
By golly, I will finish BioWith if it kills me & bring to life Haze Grey before the end of the year & I will have my significantly better works of fiction on the shelves, outselling that crap or so help me I’ll…
… well, I don’t know what I’ll do. But it is absolutely ridiculous. Not you, Mr. Jasper Fjorde, I think you are phenomenal. Guy who wrote the book about burning down Emily Dickinsons house & Jason Wright – I just might be talking to you.. among many….
End rant.
So. I’ve been MIA again. Let me tell you how busy life has been.
IDONTHAVEMORETHANFIVEMINUTESTOSITDOWNBYMYSELFANDIFIDOIDRATHERBESLEEPING.BETWEENTHEBABYANDTHEMANANDSCHOOLWHICHSUCKSBTW&THEYAREONMYSHITLISTANDWORKANDLIFE,IHAVEBARELYHADACHANCETOBREATHE.OHANDTHEICINGONTHECAKEISTHATIMNOWCRAZYSICK&FEELINGMISERABLE.YAYFUN!YESSIR,MAYIHAVEANOTHER?
Well, that’s basically it. Kinda. In super fabulous news, I have found a place for the Princess & I to live. We move next weekend! It was more than I wanted to pay, but it’s a beautiful, spacious, open, sunny apartment with tons of room. The three of us – The Princess, The Dog, & The Melissa – will live happily ever after there for at least one lovely year. It is super fabulous and wonderful and I am oh so excited…
AND SO NOT READY. Packing? Dear Lord! At first I thought it would be cake. I didn’t really unpack anything from when the Princess & I moved back home a little over two years ago. I’d forgotten, silly me, how quickly things accumulate. Holy Moses, I need boxes. Then I need to set up electricity & the internet & find a washer/dryer for CHEAP. I decided to forgo the home phone & cable. Seriously, who uses landlines theses days? As far as TV goes, I just don’t watch it. If I do, it’s generally basic programming and DVR’d. I can get all that off of hulu. Princess does most of the watching & even then that is incredibly incredibly limited. So she’ll deal with Sesame Street instead of the Imagination Movers until Mommy can find them on DVD or she goes to Grandma’s house. Problem solved.
So, I have all this stuff to do. Plus the shopping that will obviously need to occur after moving in. Then I’m fighting with my POS online school about them decided to drop me from classes after I complete them and how they are trying to rob me. Whatevs. My coworker is going to be out soon for 4-6 weeks, leaving me to take over a bulk of her tasks. My plate somehow became retardedly full. RETARDEDLY FULL. So, has my book gotten any lovin’ lately? No. I’m about half to three quarters of my way through the first read-through and it hasn’t been touched in about a week.
What I have done, however, is spent money I should not have at Barnes & Noble, buying a stack of books for the first time in forever. Up first was The Wednesday Letters by Jason Wright. I saw a blog post about it, and was so struck by their excitement I had to get it myself. The book itself was sub par, in my opinion, but reading the Epilogue in the form of a letter sealed to the back of the book was quasi-redeeming. I actually got chills when I opened the little letter, because it was like I was reading someone’s most personal thoughts, even if it was all fiction. Kinda makes you miss good old fashioned handwritten letters. Anyway. Those were followed by two books (by sheer coincidence were they by the same guy) by Jasper Fforde, who I think I am in love with after only 60 pages. I’m pretty sure I was in love after reading the back of the first book. I picked up Thursday Next: The First of the Sequels & The Fourth Bear. Gauging by what I have read so far, he’s right up my alley. Those clearance sections are phenomenal. I also bought a copy of An Arsonist’s Guide to Writers’ Homes in New England by Brock Clarke for my mom, which I have yet to touch, but she swore it was “very me.” I’m pretty excited about that one as well. Who doesn’t love a shiny stack of brand new books beside their bed? I know I certainly wouldn’t (and haven’t) pass on it.
All of this, however, has reminded me of the one thing that I could have sworn I learned during NaNoWriMo. Melissa does NOT work well without Deadlines!! Good grief, I was supposed to have finished both read-through’s of Blame it on the Weatherman by now, and was to be cheerfully galavanting through a few books of similar locale before diving into edits. I am not even finished with the first. I have to have to have to be largely & reasonably happy with the end results finished by June so I can get my very deserved free bound copy, courtesy of winning NaNoWriMo. Have to. But am I? No. Why? BECAUSE I DON’T WORK WELL WITH MY OWN DEADLINES. Sigh.
I also realized, however, that I really haven’t been reading enough at all. Before really getting into my edits, I have to get back into it. I need to read, savor, devour, and learn from as many other distinguished lucky writers who have made it to where I desire to be. So right now, I’m reading. When I can. Which is rare.
Then again, instead of weeping over dead crops in Farmville tonight, I probably should have been reading. Oh well. I left the book at work. I don’t want to do two at once… or so I’m telling myself.
What I’m genuinely hoping is that things will settle once we get moved into our new home. I won’t have the distractions that I have here and I’ll have more peace. This place has kinda sucked the life out of me, and I’m hoping a new set of scenery will help breathe life into all things Melissa. Specifically the (future) Author Melissa. And right now, I have a feeling Haze Grey & Divorced Away keeps trying to muscle out Blame it on the Weatherman for attention. Go figure. She needs to shut her yappy little mouth & leave me alone. Poor BioWith needs some loving.
Some day.
I need a writers group. In Friendswood. Who will meet at my house so I don’t need to get a babysitter. Sigh.
It has been a hot minute since my last blog post. Unacceptable.
Life has a whirlwind effect on… everything. I converted to fulltime status at my job (GOOD RIDDANCE, TEMP STATUS. I’ll take that lofty pay increase & raise you a 401k +benefits) and have been a-going ever since. Adam and I also had a sushi “cooking” class at the Central Market downtown, which was beyond awesome. For starters, that place is ginormous. AND THE WINE SECTION! OOHHH THE WINE SECTION! They had our very favorite big bottle of a french table red for uber cheap. I can never remember what it’s called, something like L’Esperanza. Something. It’s amazing. Either way, the place is huge and hippie-like. Very Midtown-esque. I loved counting all of the 20-something males in their hemp and scraggily beards. You wouldn’t know it, but they are loaded. And the class was delightful. We learned all about fish pairings and how to cut the fish and other delicious tricks of the trade. We haven’t made any post-classroom yet, but Adam has already started stockpiling supplies. And we’re excited.
I have also been cripplingly exhausted. Last night I went to bed at 8:30 and was awoken at 6:15 this morning. It didn’t hurt to get up, either, so it was a very needed rest. One that I am contemplating imitating again tonight, after I take my mom to see her new puppies.
One of my coworkers has a chihuahua who just spit out seven – count ‘em one, two, three, four, five, six, SEVEN – puppies. They have no idea what the dad of the litter was, but oh my goodness are they ever freaking adorable!! They are a week old today, so we won’t get them until around Valentine’s Day. And the crazy lady that is my mother is getting two. TWO NEW PUPPIES! Now, my daughter and I moved back home post divorce, and we have a dog. My mom got a dog 4 years ago as well, just before I got my Rosie, but he quickly morphed into my brother’s dog. So she said she needs two so they won’t go from a house full of dogs to a house with none.
“He’ll need a friend!”
Mmmkk, crazy. So there will soon be two adorable, tiny monsters running and peeing all over the place. Who is moving out asap? This girl right here with the keyboard.
Speaking of, my home-hunt is driving me batty. I found the apartment I want, but it’s not in the area I want. Of course everything in the area I want doesn’t not have the amenities I am looking for. Why should we make Melissa’s life easy? That is just no fun!
So I’m still hunting. My goal is to get out of here in a month, but we’ll see. One of the places has an opening the weekend I’m gunning for, but I don’t know how big of a fan I am of it. Then again, it is within walking distance of a Sonic AND my doctors office! Possible win? Very possible. Regardless, this is consuming most of my time.
As far as the book goes, I’m slowly plowing through BioWith. I’m about halfway through my read through and have already found several misplaced scenes. I can also spot almost all of the scenes written via Write or Die, because half of them don’t make sense. Like… really. My work is cut out for me, but I’m overwhelmingly impressed with how it is actually shaping up. I thought it would be about fifty times worse than it actually is, and that does wonders for my writer’s self esteem.
It’s slow going, but moving. Speaking of – back to reading! I finally got my books back and need to finish my first go ’round so I can hit those and then double back. Mush, mush, MUSH!!!
The time has finally come.
All files have been converted, all spelling errors (mostly) corrected, what few chapters exist have been separated, and 95 8.5×11″ pieces of paper are numbered and neatly stacked beside me, begging to be read and fixed. Oh yes, boys and girls, editing time is upon us.
Originally, I was going to wait until March to tackle Blame it on the Weatherman’s extensive rewrites and editing; frankly, I can’t wait any longer. Now the plan is to read it – which has not been done start-to-finish yet – and follow that up by reading some of my favorite books. A friend has two of the three I plan to read, which is really inconvenient, but I can at the very least start it off. I printed the last “chapter”1 at work, and it really wasn’t that bad. Wasn’t Shakespeare, but it wasn’t Stephanie Meyers either.2 It was a huge relief, because it was thrown together last minute and I swore it was the worst thing I’d ever written. Oh, so much has to be done to it and a good 20k is probably going to be added to the draft to flesh it out, as it’s only sitting at around 57k and feels rushed in the places I’ve skimmed, but it’s not terrible writing. I’ll pat myself on the back for that one, folks.
Next stop for BioWith:
1. Read the rough draft once, start to finish, with no intention other than to simply read.
2. Go back through the draft to compose an outline, since one never existed, to tie up the loose ends and bring together story lines I had completely forgotten about after writing.3
3. Flesh out story; tie up the loose ends, glue them together, and pace the novel better. I had a lot of things crammed into 57k, it’s time to air them out into a slightly more believable fashion
4. Format into proper chapters and sections
5. Begin “official” first round of complete story edits
I have no time table for these events, other than to have it completely finished by June in order to land my free printed copy of the book through CreateSpace. Oh, I will have that copy. Even if the book is in 80 different pieces and awful, it will be printed and bound. And I’ll probably sleep with it. Sorry, Adam… priorities.
So, that’s what I’m looking at for my beloved little NaNoWriMo book. Reading will be very quick, so I’m thinking about making it two read throughs before continuing on to Step 2. I’m a speedy reader, and I don’t want to miss anything. February and March are going to be difficult, though. One of my coworkers will be out for a month for surgery, which means my workload is going to double in the office. Considering it’s very light at the moment, it won’t be devastating, but the edits will be a little more slowgoing. Either way, I want the rewrites to be completed by April/May which is more than feasible, so maybe it won’t be so bad afterall.
I can hear the Princess singing to herself in her room, so I guess that means naptime is over. Unfortunately, I spent that whole two hours printing my book and plowing my dead crops on Farmville in the meanwhile. It has been very neglected… I’m a terrible farmer. And I could have used the sleep. Alas. Back to Potty Training! Oh the joys…
…. NOT REALLY. Sigh.
1The format is very loose. I have a handful of sections with mini scenes designated as chapters, but nothing you could really call a chapter. It’s a bit of a mess… but November wasn’t exactly the time for me to start making things look pretty.
2I don’t like her writing style. At all. I’m not a fan of YA in general, which is fine as I am older than the target audience, but her series makes me cringe. Everyone has told me “the story is so griping! it just touches you!” No. It makes me wince. I only got through the first one before swearing “NEVER AGAIN.” /end rant.
3While formatting to a print-friendly version from my yWriter files, I found two characters I’d completely forgotten about and two story lines that were mentioned, but than abandoned… because I forgot about them. Keeping two separate files at home & work was probably a bad idea; but now everything will be reunited. And it feeeelllsss so goooodddddd…
But you can call it “The Blog”
It is still difficult for me to sit down and write something, you know, legit. Word. Recalibrating my skills and talents as a writer is a painstaking process; one that I should be enjoying and submerging myself in relentlessly.
Am I?
Slowly, I suppose, is the appropriate answer. Enjoying? No. Submerging? Slowly. More like a gentle dunk in the shallow end of a very large, deep, scary looking pool that probably hasn’t been cleaned in years and would very well give you tetanus if you waded in too far.
Oi. Isn’t that a cheery outlook on my potential writing career? Miss Sunshine, reporting for duty!
Over the past two days, I have been picking up a pencil and scribbling down a small opening of some sort in a notebook I’ve designated as my work edition of a writers notebook. I have absolutely no idea where it is going or what it is for, but it’s something. I’ll take that.
This afternoon brought about the very strangest sensation I’ve ever experienced while writing. After all these years, all this time writing – I never fully connected with a character or story. I rarely became emotionally invested. This probably explains why I had 87 stories scattered around various notebooks and computers, not a single one with an ending. Either way, it has never really happened before.
So there I was, scribbling away about a little girl who desperately wanted a pony, and when I wrote that she grew up – all the bed sheets were replaced with something more sophisticated, all the toys were boxed up, all the books were donated – I felt the pain of her innocence fleeting. She’s barely named, and it’s a simple little ditty about how this little girl fought so fiercely to have a pony despite knowing the opposition in her parents was damn near resolute… and I felt for my character.
IT WAS AMAZING. AND REALLY FREAKING DEPRESSING.
That aside. I begun thinking about the intent this could have… the home this needed… the story this was telling. Slowly, the opening to Haze Grey & Divorced Away appeared in the forefront of my mind. I know why I connected; because this little six-year-old girl wanted something so badly, and never gave up hope, only to spend years disappointed yet unwavering. My poor souls in my next book feel that pain. I felt that pain. I felt it, I connected it, I made it finally come out on the page.
For someone more experienced, more published; for someone who has never told a story or cared to put pen to paper – this may sound positively trivial or elementary. For me? For me this was monumental. I have finally begun walking down the path my life was meant to go down. It is fabulous. Tonight, I shall celebrate with beer and a funny movie.
Next on my list of things to do is to get back my copy of Lamb & reread that, bust out Good Omens and read that, and then mentally prep myself to dance with Blame it on the Weatherman again. Haze can wait. The emotions are still a little scary. But hey – at least she has promise.
Can you believe it, folks? A whole bright and spanking new decade is quickly unfolding before us. When the next set rolls around, I’ll be a whopping 34 years old. Oh, the horror! Aside from the daunting hill of fire alarm raising candles and arthritis1 rests so much hope and potential. The last half of this past decade has been peppered with some incredibly difficult and heart wrenching times. I’ve learned a lot, grown a lot, and was repetitiously abused by the naive notions of knowing far more than my brief years leaving my battered brain. In short, I’ve grown up. I still am, I suppose. Turmoil, tragedy, terror, tacky aliteration, and all of the hurls and whirls life throws at any one of us at any given moment of any given day has shaped into a very nice close. Desolate years of crap and muck were replaced by a stronger, happier heart and mind. I’m excited to be where I am now. The next ten years are going to be full of the same wonders and disappointment; but I know it will all end well.
That being determined, I was ready to set my goals for the next year and subsequent decade. I’m going to pretty them up, print them on pink paper, laminate the bitches so they last forever, and slap a copy on my little cubicle wall at work. Forget Santa; Melissa is coming to town. (Towwwwnnnnn!)
GOALS FOR 2010
1. Complete the revisions for Blame it on the Weatherman
2. Complete rough draft & first round of revisions for Haze Grey & Divorced Away
3. Write more by hand
4. Join a writers group and stick with them.
5. Put effort back into school & boost my GPA to atleast a 3.5. This 2.5-I-barely-acknowledge-this-class-exists business must end now.
6. Pay off all my pesky credit cards that ran up while I was unemployed & start Cairo’s college fund
7. Wake up an hour earlier than normal to get ready. Lord knows I need the time.
GOALS FOR THE NEW DECADE
1. Get published
2. Make the New York Times Best Seller’s list
3. Get a fan club!
4. “Look past my Caspers”2 & get married again
5. Pay off my car before my term ends
6. Buy a house
7. Pop out another kid… preferrably in the later half of the decade
8. Write and revise one book a year – minimum.
Lofty goals, but as my grandmother (and now mother) always says – People meet the expectations you set for them. If they are too low, that is all someone will ever amount to. I, however, am destined for something far better and far greater than writing articles on how to cheat at Farmville on some wanna-be internet publication website. No offense to anyone who presently does; I’m sure you’re methods are very useful and… handy.
The holidays consumed my time, but left me with that warm, fuzzy, I-am-super-loved feeling that every human being needs. I was spoiled with wonderful gifts, delicious food, and fantastic memories that have given me plenty to draw on for inspiration. The huge box of writing exercises Adam’s parents gave me for Christmas certainly helps as well.
In short, I am excited for the next set of years to come and to see where they lead me! Screw Resolutions – those are for sheep and people who want to keep putting off going to the gym. Set goals with me, O WordPress Universe, & let’s knock them out together!
1I’m in my early twenties. Anyone over 30 is still archaic and decrepit. Next year, you’ll be well seasoned life veterans.
2I also love Kanye’s music. He’s kind of a dickhead… but you can’t deny his genius rhymes, yo.3
3I am too white for this.
