Nanny Wanted

I have a friend who is a popular and well-respected author. On several occasions he has told me I have both the talent and the tenacity to get published. I love it when popular and well-respected authors tell me things like that.

My tenacity sent me back to school this summer. Self Publishing School, that is. Yeah. Who would have ever thought I'd be tenacious enough to publish my stuff on my terms? That's for another post, though.

Anyway, as you might guess, part of Self Publishing School was to write a book. So for the past couple of months I have been 100% completely engrossed in writing this book (which I'll talk about in another post). It has taken over my entire life and become the answer to every question.

Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while.
I'm writing a book.

What's new?
I'm writing a book.

Why isn't there any food in this house?
I'm writing a book.

Why don't you ever call me?
I'm writing a book.

What's that smell?
I'm writing a book.

When is the last time you used a hairbrush?
I'm. Writing. A. Book.

You get the picture.

I was talking to a fellow classmate on the phone this morning. She is writing a book in the middle of moving to a new house. I can't even imagine. During our conversation, it dawned on me that I could really use a nanny - not for my kids - but for myself. Is there even such a thing? Adult nannies?

Here is the ad:

Wanted: one live-in nanny to look after grown woman who is at least 26 years old. Must be willing to cook, clean, shop, and remind approximate 26-year-old woman to eat, shower, get dressed, and to wear her glasses when staring at computer for hours on end. Must encourage her to actually follow the schedule in her planner and to be social. Attending writing conferences not considered a social activity. Daily walks are required. Trays of delicious food delivered hourly without asking is preferable. Must see to it that Peanut M&Ms are always on hand. Guacamole skills are a plus. Send resume to I'mwriting@book.


And just in case you didn't believe me about the glasses...

On a Darker Note

I spent the weekend at Solstice Writing Retreat, which is always a good thing. I love being around other writers - they're my tribe.

Louise Plummer was there, who quickly became one of my favorite people in all the world when I met her three years ago. She told a story about giving someone dark chocolate fortune cookies, along with, of course, dark fortunes.

She and her husband Tom, along with their son, came up with the list, which included such gems as:

• Toe fungus next Wednesday
• Don't bother counting your lucky stars
• Dead man walking

We, of course, could not contain our laughter.

As a writer, I spend lots of time inside my own head. Naturally, the last few days have found me wandering into dark fortune territory.

• Those stars you're seeing? Cataracts.
• Say goodbye to your toaster this week.
• There is a boulder in your future.
• Lucky numbers? I don't think so.
• I'd get that mole checked if I were you
• You're going to regret eating that fortune cookie
• Dinner: what goes down will come up
• Stay home Monday. And Tuesday. In fact, don't go out at all next week.

Try it. You'll be hooked. 

P.S. My son has long held on to the best fortune he ever got from a cookie (dark or otherwise):

A lit candle frightens no monkeys.

Life Changing Stuff Here

Hello, My Friends.

I need to tell you about the last month.

It. Has been. Life changing.

I made a new year's resolution to rededicate myself to my small copywriting business, The Bright Words.

I built a new website. I got professional pictures taken. I started looking for new clients. I attended a business conference. That's the life changing part. The speakers and presenters were phenomenal. It was the first time I've ever experienced true synergy - and I figured out what I'm supposed to do with my life!

Long story short - two of the speakers there are now mentoring me and helping me along. I'm learning a lot and I'm exhausted - but in the good way. And now it's time for me to do some major hustling.

So here it is:

 I Need A Small Army to Help Market My Business

I’m crazy. But you know that.

And I need the support of a small army of people who are even crazier than I am.

I’m putting together an Influencers Group to help me create a groundswell surrounding the launch of my business: The Bright Words. It’s already out there, and I’ve been in business for a while, but I want to take it to the next level. I’m in search of a dream team of authentic, dedicated, positive and proactive wave makers to help me spread the word over the next few weeks - in fact - my goal is to get 100 influencers to join this group in just 10 days.

It won’t be allllll fun and games (just mostly). I’m going to need a lot of help. It’s going to be work. There may be blood, sweat and tears. (Joke. Okay, half joke.). But, I promise you’ll get a glimpse into my brand of crazy, which is better than say, Kim Kardashian’s brand of crazy.

Here’s what I promise you if you join the Influencers Group:

        I will spread information about you, your business, product, or service far and wide - leveraging my unique strengths and avenues of influence.

       Access to me (and the other influencers in the group) in an exclusive Facebook group. This group may just turn out to create mutually beneficial relationships that could last a lifetime. You never know.

Here’s what you promise me you’ll do if you join the Influencers Group:

    Share information about The Bright Words far and wide—leveraging your unique strengths and avenues of influence.
    Join the Influencers Group on Facebook, and be an active participant and collaborator: sharing ideas together to help each other more effectively spread the word.
    Find other people - influencers - who you think would love to be part of this dynamic group.

Here’s the link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1688969331329988/

That’s it!
Are you in? It may just help you out, as well.
Love ya.
Mean it.
For real.

Writing and Pizza -- It's Like I'm in College Again (Sort of)

As a public service announcement, I thought I should let you all know that you should not annoy me when I am in the middle of putting on/attending a writing conference. And that's because when I am at a writing conference, I am euphoric. Euphoric, people. Please don't take that away from me.

Case in point:

I had about an hour for dinner before I needed to return to the conference. So I called the hubby and told him I would pick up a quick Little Caesar's pizza, giving me approximately 45 minutes to spend at  home for the day. Easy enough, right?

Wrong.

As a general rule of thumb, if you are going to order $94.64-dollars-worth of pizza, DON'T USE THE DRIVE-THRU. Also, be sure to have a credit card handy and not a check. Secondly, Little Caesar's, get my order right the first time. I mean, how hard is it to put the wrong pizza back and take out the right pizza? Isn't that the very definition of hot-and-ready? Hmm?

But then, then I handed the girl a twenty to pay for my $8.58 pizza. She yelled out to the universe, "Can someone get me some change?" Apparently, the universe was not interested in getting her some change. So I frantically dug through my ash tray and scrounged together the fifty-eight cents. I handed it to her and said, "Now you can just give me back $12.00." I probably should have just told her to sign over a promissory note for her first-born child, because she still wouldn't have known what I was saying. She took the change, looked at me, looked at her hand, and proceeded to count the change THREE times. It could have been that my combination of coins threw her off, as it wasn't two quarters, a nickel, and three pennies. It was still .58 cents all the same. "Just give me back $12.00," I repeated. She then takes out a calculator and does some kind of calculus-type equation to figure out how much change I am owed. She handed me $12.01. And I still had to ask for my pizza.

Needless to say, I had 15 minutes for dinner with my family.

The conference, however has been lovely so far. Louise Plummer is my new best friend. Ann Cannon is a delight. Those of us on the planning committee have been working for nearly a year, and it has been such fun to see it all come to fruition. But above all, it has been motivating. I am motivated to write.

And all is well in the world.

Dress Code: Pajamas

It's been an interesting weekend. Much like my son, my weekend started last Wednesday.

But now it's Monday and the dust has settled, my mind has cleared up a bit, and now I'm ready to write about it.

So back to last Wednesday. I was at a meeting for entrepreneurs, hoping to do a little networking. The subject of the meeting didn't really have anything to do with my objectives, which was all about securing angel investors for your company. I'm a one-woman show, and all I need is some people who need a good copywriter. As I was thinking up creative ways to sneak out of this 6-person meeting, the old iPad alerted me that I had a new e-mail. It was my friend, notifying me that Midway Elementary had a new opening for a kindergarten teacher and that I should apply so she could put her son in my class. Ten minutes later (clearly I had not yet figured out a way to sneak out) my formal principal called to also inform me of the position. As I hung up with him, another friend called with the same message.

I sent my husband a text to inform him of the job. Just to give you a little background, we are house shopping, and the thought of some extra money is really tempting right now.

By this point I had been out of the meeting room for a few minutes, so I figured I could go back in for my stuff and act like I had an excuse to leave. I sort of had one, right?

I drove to the school, tracked the principal down, and asked him about it. He invited me to apply and I told him I would think about it. That night I went home and did a little soul searching. I am still trying to prove to myself that I can do other things besides teach school. It's not that there's anything wrong with teaching; I'm just not passionate about it. I really, really want to earn money as a writer. However, the teaching job was for a one-year contract, so I figured I could do anything for a year, and teaching is a pretty good thing to do for a year.

I spent Thursday getting paperwork together and applied for the job -- with that tight feeling in my chest.

Friday, I interviewed, and I questioned myself all the way there. A few hours later, the principal called to tell me he decided to go with the other candidate, who had just finished her student teaching on that very team. I have to admit, it was an effort trying not to sound elated.

In the end, I'm flattered that so many people were looking out for me. I was told flattering things about myself as a teacher. And yes, sometimes I do miss it.

But do you know what? I've spent this entire morning writing and doing writing-related things. And I feel light and happy; and most importantly, I feel at peace. This whole doing-what-you-love and following your passion? I'm a believer.

Besides, you can't teach school in your pajamas.

The End

So I've been writing this story. And it's been a lot fun. But I got kind of stuck there for a while, and I just wasn't sure how my heroine was going to work her way out of a sticky situation. Also, the situation was not sticky enough.

And then last Wednesday, I was waiting in my car; waiting for my children to come out of piano lessons. I spend a lot of time in my car on Wednesday afternoons, so I usually pack along my iPad and keyboard so that I can write in between schlepping the kids to their various places. And boy, did the story start to flow! So I went home and kept writing.

I subbed on Thursday and Friday, so I had to impatiently wait to write until well after dinnertime. And then Saturday came. And you know what? I spent about 12 glorious hours type type typing away. Thankfully my husband was willing to keep everyone else busy. I did take a break to cook dinner, leaving my heroine in the most precarious situation, but I came back to her and she managed to save herself and the boy in the process. Before I knew it, it was 12:30 a.m. and I FINISHED MY BOOK! I actually got to type the words The End.

Granted, I have about 7 or 8 more drafts to go, but the story is done! The editing and the re-writing shall commence; but for just a moment, I can enjoy the sense of satisfaction that comes from knowing THAT I HAVE WRITTEN A NOVEL.

And just to make things a little sweeter, a fellow writer-friend, upon hearing the news that I finished, brought me this to celebrate:

It's my first you-wrote-a-book cake!

Thanks, Jen!

Ego Boost

So I'm lucky enough to live in the same community as a certain author who has published many, many books. Last month I found out about a writing class he was offering and immediately signed up. Besides the many wonderful things he is teaching us, we also have the chance to get our writing samples critiqued. It's always a little nerve-racking to have other people look at what I've written; especially when it's done by someone who has actually made a successful career out of writing, himself!

So when it came around to my turn, I braced myself for the impact. He asked others in the group what their opinions were. They offered some helpful insights and I, not being allowed to comment until the critique was over, wrote them down. The teacher joined in on the discussion pointing out a few things here and there -- all helpful. Then, at the end, he looked me in the eye and said, "You're already a good writer and you don't need me."

Wow. I'll be riding high on that one for a while.**

**Even though the fact remains, that I do need and will take all the help I can get!!

Finding the Magic!

I came across this quote this morning and immediately fell in love with it. Then I saw it was by Roald Dahl, one of my all-time favorite children's authors! (You know, James and the Giant Peach, Matilda, etc.).

So I'm off to find the magic for today... I hope you do the same!

Ready, Set, Go

My husband gave me a watch for Christmas. I love watches. The watch he gave me is a designer watch. It's soooo pretty. It's gold and shiny and it has lots of pretty little dials. So this watch got me to thinking. I'm not someone who usually cares about designer-type, fancy-schmancy things. I'm just as happy with a ten-dollar watch from Target as I am with the one currently on my wrist. I know people say things like that all the time, but I really mean it. I was completely shocked and awe-struck at this fine gift. Dan simply said, "you deserve it." I guess that's the part that got me thinking. I do deserve certain things life. Don't we all? At the very least, I deserve to go after the things I want. And the thing I really want is to write books. So I have been writing and revising, editing and submitting. I've heard back from two publishers, both of whom said something to the effect of, we like it, we think you're publishable, it's just not for us at this time. And so the hunt continues. But that's okay. It's nice to be told by multiple publishers that I am publishable. It would be nicer to be told they would like to publish me, but that will happen eventually. Hopefully soon. So I signed up for a conference. A big one. I'm excited. I know of a few writers who got their breaks as a result of this conference. One of them is teaching the class I will be attending. So look out Book Industry. I'm coming after YOU!

True Confessions

I have a confession.

I talk to myself. It's not inner monologue. I have conversations with myself. Dialogue. I say something, and then I say something back. I discovered this when I got married. I would ask Dear Hubby a question and then answer it out loud, myself. I still do. He's been conditioned to ignore the insanity and answer the questions I'm actually asking of him.

I have another confession.

I day dream. Like a lot. I can watch T.V. but really, I'm just looking at it. I'm actually off in la-la land, thinking about things like what I would wear to a 1950's era cocktail party (a pink chiffon dress, of course). When I read a book, I really have to focus because one word can send me off on some weird tangent and before I know it I am climbing a mountain at lightning speed, thinking about the vikings.

So naturally, there's a good book in there somewhere, right?

Letting Go

I had what I call an "ah-ha" moment today, and no, I'm not talking about the one-hit-wonder band. But now you're going to be singing "Take On Me" for the next several hours, right?

Anyway... back to my ah-ha moment. I have totally ignored my writing for the last several months. And yet, it keeps nagging me to do something. Begging me. Pleading with me. Sometimes I really wish I didn't want to write. Even when there's nothing in my head (which is quite often) I still want to write. And yet, I go on ignoring it.

So my new year's resolution and theme for 2011 is "let it go and go write." If the dishes don't get done, let it go and go write. Write every day, even if you only edit one word. Sit down with the computer. Delete one word and replace it with another. If you don't take a shower tonight, let it go and go write. Get the picture?

But then today I realized something entirely different. I'm holding onto something that really needs to be let go. My real issue is fear. I'm holding onto it for dear life. I'm afraid to finish anything. Because if I finish anything, then someone else will read it. Why would I open myself up to such vulnerability? Can I really allow other people to see what's going on inside this half-cooked brain of mine? Can I handle it? Can I really be okay with strangers spending their hard-earned cash to buy something I wrote? Can I even get to the point of having something to sell?

The answer of course, is YES.

Confidence, as it were, is not my problem. Fear, on the other hand, keeps getting in my way.

Time to let it go.

Losing It

A while back, I lost something. Contained on that something were several works in progress, including about 25,000 words of a certain novel. Please don't tell me about backing up files. Please.
However, I am happy to announce that I have since re-written about 13,000 of the lost 25,000 words. Stronger, perhaps? One can only hope.
And yes, they are backed up and saved in three different places.

Satisfaction

I just spent the better part of the past four hours writing. Except for a small break to make my kids and their friends some snow cones, my fingers have been flying. I haven't done that in a really, really long time. And you know what? It is super satisfying. Remember my serial killer story? Yeah.

What gives you satisfaction? And please, no standard answers, i.e., hearing my children in laughter, a job well-done, etc. Because, while there is truth in those answers, they are the easy answers. So dig deep.

Wanna Keep Me Company?

So my manuscript is being placed directly into the hands of that lady I met last week. I am remaining calm. Calm like Hurricane Rita.

To keep my mind off of it, today I have done the following:

1. Purged the unwanted contents of my cedar chest.

2. Dusted AND vacuumed my bedroom.

3. Stir-fried some noodles. Ate three bites.

4. Made orange jello (I don't eat jello).

5. Cleaned AND vacuumed my bathroom (long dark hair on Travertine tiles).

6. Watched "What About Bob?" (I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful...)

7. Searched for a new camera lens on e-Bay.

8. Talked to the same person on the phone THREE times.

9. Cleaned and disinfected two Camelback bladders (we're going to Moab on Wednesday).

10. Got on Facebook at least 5 times.

11. Started a new story.

Only five more hours til bedtime.

One Step Closer

School has been out for a week and a half now, and I have been waiting for a day to be able to something because I WANT to and not because I HAVE to.

The have-to's on today's list included holding a Primary Presidency meeting and feeding my children. That's a pretty easy day, if I do say so myself.

So for the want-to, I just completed the final draft of a story I have been working on for a year. It's done. Chiseled. Sculpted. Until, that is, an editor says to fix it. The trick is getting it into the hands of an editor who also happens to think it worth fixing.

As luck would have it (and I don't believe in luck so much as seeking out the right opportunities) I met a woman this week who owns a publishing business. She told me to call her next week to show her my manuscript. She said if it's not something she can publish, then she's got connections and can point me to the right people. Isn't that great?

Wish me luck!

I'm No Michelangelo

Writing a story is like creating a sculpture. A sculptor starts with a rough blob of material and sees what isn't there. A writer begins with an idea and a blank screen and sees what isn't there. I have a story. It's done. But I'm not sure it's finished. I keep chiseling away at it, polishing it, hoping to end up with something beautiful. Perhaps even something worthy of submission, or even better... publication.

I also have a little thumb drive that is full of rough blobs of material.

Does anyone have a chisel?

Say What?

Ah, November. Report cards to do. Arts night at school. A Primary to run. A wedding trip to plan and attend. Thanksgiving. Oh - did I mention I have a family to take care of?

But the thing I'm most excited about doing this month is this: I'm writing a novel. You know, the one I'm vomiting. It's National Novel Writing Month. Affectionately known as NaNoWriMo. The goal is to spit out a 50,000 word novel by the end of the month. It doesn't have to be good. It just has to be done. Don't believe me? Check it out here: www.nanowrimo.org

Why am I doing this, you ask? I don't know. So I can say I did it? So I can have an excuse for making my kids macaroni and cheese from a box for dinner? I did that tonight, by the way. No vegetables. No meat. Just noodles and powdered cheese.

As of tonight, I've got 7554 words. Go Cindy Go! Type! Type! Type!

I'm Not Sick... Really.

As you may know, I have aspirations of being a published children's author. Well, right now I'm vomiting a book. I use that phrase because the words are gushing out of me; they're ugly, and they stink. I know they won't always be that way. But right now, every time I sit down to type, the words flow and flow. I've never experienced this before. It's weird. But I like it.

I'm not going to tell you what it's about just yet. But I will tell you that I already have a character who's doing things I don't want him to do. And he's not a kid.

Is the suspense killing you as much as it's killing me?