The End is HERE

I've had more coffee while writing this book than I've had during the last few years of my life. My first novel was "easy" compared to this. The more I learn, the harder it gets. Somehow it seems like that should be the other way around, but it's not.Anyway, what an amazing day. I spent all afternoon sweating my butt off at the fair with my family, came home and wrote the last chapter of my book.Now don't get me wrong, there are many edits ahead of me, but the structure is there and it's good--I won't say brilliant because I just don't have that...

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This Is The End

Hmm. Let’s see. What do I blog about today? Do I blog about my kids? No.Do I blog about my commute?Nah.Do I blog about my second novel?Yes! Yes! Yes!Actually, no. Let me tell you why I’ve been so quiet over the last couple days. Wilde’s Army is two chapters away from finished. There will be edits. There will be coffee, sweat and tears, but the exciting 1st draft is near completion.If I stay off blogger for just a couple more days, it’ll be done. Thanks for following . . . and words of encouragement are always welcome. ;-)If you need something to...

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Snakes and Chickens

I am scared of many things. Spiders (see why here), scorpions (haven’t gotten there yet), Chows (we’ll get there, too) and snakes. Shudders. Snakes are the worst.Kris and I used to love riding bikes when we lived in the suburbs. My bike was particularly special; it had a long banana seat with a rainbow print, the frame was purple and there was a white basket adorned on the front. My brother and I would ride around for hours and wouldn’t come home until the sun set.When we moved to the country, our daily two-wheeled adventures came to a near screeching...

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Humidity

I have nothing to blog about. No creativity left in my soul. No urge to do anything more than crawl out of bed and sit under the fan in my family room. Okay, so that's a tad extreme; I'm dressed and at work, but you get the point.Why do I feel so blah?It's so hot. And it's not just 90 and hot, it's 105 with a heat index of 115. Humidity with the ability to soak skin in sweat the instant you step outside is the water cooler topic of the hour.Writing is a struggle for me in the summer. (I can hear the yeah right's coming from many in my writing...

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Car Ride Home

I picked up my kids from my mother-in-law's today. We had an interesting ride home. Piling three children--two of which are in car seats--into the backseat of my Jetta is always interesting, but somehow our conversation on this hot, muggy and downright intolerable day was more interesting than most. "Mommy, why are yawns contagious," Ethan asked. I yawned. "I don't know."Cue laughter.Cue contagious yawn by Ethan. Cue more laughter.Cue contagious yawn by Abby.Cue hysterical giggles. This drive is the best thing I've experienced all day."So, Mommy,...

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My Best Brother

On Saturday my husband and I were in the bathroom, getting ready for a day out and about with the family. Ethan and Abby were already dressed and playing--or fighting--in his room. A knock on the bathroom door."Mommy?""Yes, Ethan," I said in my kindest what's-going-on-now voice."Abby is annoying me. I'm trying to clean my room and she just won't shut up. She's going on and on and on--"Gee, like someone else I know. "What does her talking have to do with you cleaning your room? She misses you, buddy, just ignore her and clean your room."Shoulders...

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My First Love Affair

Fifth grade was a year of changes. The most important change was this year marked my last year of elementary school. We were the big kids on campus. We held our heads high, snickered at the crying kindergartners, scared second graders out of our way with our holier-than-thou looks, and dreamed of sixth grade and all that came with it . . . like lockers. If you believe I was involved in any of that, you’re crazy. Okay, well maybe I dreamed about the lockers. I was mostly concerned I’d never figure out how to open mine, but I was not the scary type....

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Guest Blog with Derek Flynn

Today I welcome Derek Flynn to my blog. He's traveled all the way from Ireland to be here and he's brought memories with him. Awesome! So grab your cup of coffee, or depending on which time zone you're in, your soda, sit back, relax and read.Some years back – when I lived in New York – we took a road trip to Virginia. We spent our first night in the Shenandoah Valley. The site of many a John Denver song, the awe-inspiring landscape of the Blue Ridge Mountains more than lived up to their reputation. Coming from Ireland, the lush, green landscape...

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Letter to My Slug

Every now and again a slug takes a seat in my car and does something that earns him or her a name. Stinky Guy. Abortion Lady. Oh Shit Bar Dude. Today was a very special day because the gentleman who sat in the front seat earned many a name. Of course, I’m sure I earned a name in both slug’s minds because I failed miserably at maintaining a straight face. Giggles escaped my mouth and I wore a permanent shit eating grin. I had to read road signs to distract myself because today’s slug just kept adding new things to his name. What did he do you ask?...

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Guest Blog for Charity

So today I'm hosting my first ever guest blog and I couldn't be any happier. Not only is this for a good cause, it's for a good friend. Sarah Ballance and fellow author Elaina Lee have poured their creativity into a couple of fantastic short stories and Astrea Press is selling them with all proceeds going to charity. How good are these short stories? Well, I can speak for Hawthorne at least and it's amazing. Read my first reaction here.Now, read...

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Spiders – Oh My!

I remember third grade well. Hanging upside down from the playground monkey bars, walking to and from school every day, planting two-thousand Christmas trees by hand at the farm on the weekends, then the move and the stress that came along with it.However, fourth grade holds only one memory for me. A memory I try hard to forget, but all these years later still hold onto. The mere typing of these words brings the dreaded creepy crawlies pricking up my arms and legs. One crisp morning during the fall, my father came to wake me up. I was groggy and...

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Thank You to a Friend

Tweeters come, and tweeters go, but there is one I’ll always follow. His name is Al, he’s quite a pal and as always, he’s found a way to make my day. You should give him a look, he’s written a book about crooks and you can even read it on your nook—or other electronic device. Really guys, my poetry is not great, but Al Boudreau is. You can buy his book In Memory of Greed at Amazon or B&N. Find and follow him on Twitter @threecifer or go like him on Facebook Al Boudr...

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Running Out of Gas

I am a planner. If my family is going on a trip or if I’m making my daily commute to D.C., you can be sure my gas tank is filled with enough fuel to get me wherever I’m going. This morning, like so many mornings, I saw a commuter stranded on the side of the road. No telling how long she’d been there or how she managed to get to a gas station and fill the five-gallon jug she was emptying into her tank with fuel. Shaking my head, I told myself that will never be me. I don’t care how late I am for work or how fast I need to get somewhere; I will...

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Happy Birthday

Today is my birthday. So in honor of my X amount of years on this earth--like I was going to tell you how old I am--I am on strike. No blog posts, no twittering, no writing. Okay so maybe going on strike is something I cannot handle. I mean, I did write a blog post and you can be sure I'll relay it on twitter and NO WRITING? Are you kidding me?At least I can daydream about going on strike. I'll end with a Happy Birthday to me and my friend Sarah Ballance. Thanks for all the fireworks on Monday in honor of us. We both appreciate ...

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The Adventures of Slugging

Going home from work, my foot rests heavy on the gas pedal. I push eighty miles per hour in the HOV lanes while being passed by people in a much bigger rush than me. The state troopers don’t mind the speed and neither do the hitchhikers, just so long as my car doesn’t break down, I don’t run out of gas and I keep the temperature at an even level. Then we reach the last mile of our dedicated high occupancy lanes and have to merge from two down to one, then into the left lane of the dreaded Interstate 95. When traffic comes to a stand still,...

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Happy 4th of July

For one reason or another family didn’t come to visit us often. Many used the excuse there wasn’t enough room, but we were poor, lived in a dilapidated trailer in the middle of nowhere and both my parents were battling depression. Who would want to visit?So when my oldest brother and his now wife came on the 4th of July it was like a birthday present opened early—three days early to be exact. Since Kenny is twelve years older than me, he was always someone I looked up to, latched on to and wanted to be just like when I grew up.When I heard he was...

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