First Draft

Log Date: April 28, 2007

Wrote: THE END at about 1:38 a.m.

Stats: 283 pages (Arial 12 pt type)

71,185 words

weight: slighty over 3 3/4 lbs.

Time to write: approx 6 months + 3 weeks

I feel? Exhilarated and Spent all at once.

Research: The green notebook contains some of the research

Backed up: Six ways to Sunday

I primarily owe this miracle to my wonderful, loving, tolerant (and incredibly sexy) husband who kept telling me throughout this process: I could do it... I need to just do it... just keep on doing it... and, don't do anything but IT until it is done.

He knew better than I did all the reasons why I needed to do it. He was right and as always, wonderful.

I hope I make him proud.

Mom has been reading along as I have been writing. She hasn't read the end yet. Her encouragement was important in keeping me going, and she's a mystery buff so her comments are a great test of the integrity of the story.

(I doubt that the teenager will read this blog, but he might. In his own way, he helped too. Maybe not in a supportive, how-can-I-help-you Mom so you can get your book done sort of way... but he (and his friends) provided some of the color, research and stereotypes for the characters and their actions. And, he used it as a negotiating point -- if I let him go out he won't bother me and I can write on my book. (smile.)

He's a good son. He'll probably never read the book, but he should because -- in so many words -- there's stuff about he and I in there.

Now comes the hard part... rewrite, polish, send out drafts for reads. Then rewrite and polish more.

Then market.

Like a patient farmer, I'm hoping for a good crop of responses.

Whoa... where'd the time go?

Okay, I've been thinking about blogging, meaning to... even have some burning hot topics I want (need) to get off my chest. Trust me, the spirit's willing but the flesh is otherwise engaged. Engaged in a war of wills... time... energy... parenting. (Parenting a teenager! Ahhh... ) And engaged in writing. I have over 150 pages now... 8 chapters left to go. I KNOW how it ends. It's getting good and exciting.

8 chapters x 10 pages per chapter (approx)... that's so doable it's silly. It's a walk in the park. It's easy-peasy... I could do it in a week, if I had to. (First draft quality.) In fact I've written that much in a weekend. Yes. I'm close. I can almost taste it. And I'm getting very grumpy about interruptions that interfere with my writing day.

I'm also entering the first 10 pages -- and ONLY the first 10 pages -- in an upcoming contest. In the last two weeks I bet I have reworked those first 10 pages oh, maybe 15 times... which means I could have finished the book by now.

On my wonderful husband's recommendation I printed out an entire copy. He's right, it might be low tech but it's the best back up for the money. Worst case scenerio I retype. I've got to say that 150 feels... well, beefy!

I impressed myself. I'll blog again when first draft is done.

The Posers...

So... we do restaurant reviews.

Or rather I should say we (my awesome husband and I) go out to eat at an assigned restaurant then I come home and write the review. My husband always says he has the easy job. What he doesn't take credit for is that he makes sure I don't forget my camera, notebook, pen or head, which normally is attached, but you never know.

For our assignment tonight we left the North Valley for the East Valley arts district. There are lots of fun things to do, places to go and restaurants to enjoy in this little corner of the valley. What they don't have, however, is the publication I write for. Nonetheless, over the phone, I convinced the owner of this very fine restaurant that I and the publication I represent exist and are legit. We set a time for my husband and I to come dine. To seal the deal I emailed the owner a link to the publication.

Now, to understand the rest of this story I have to tell you that one of our favorite authors is Chuck Paliniuk who writes amazing novels with some pretty outrageous characters. In fact, one of Chuck's trademarks is characters who pretend to be something they are not.

Fast forward to the restaurant... where the wine was flowing and we were being fawned over by every employee of the place. The owner showed and he could not have been more gracious. He introduced his wife and spent a great deal of time telling us how he created the fabulous recipes himself.

At the end, he told me he tried to find my publication online and wasn't able to. (This is due to the fact that I gave him the wrong name -- Husband kept track of that, too.) The owner had not rec'd my email, but still they were feeding us like we were royalty!

When he left the table, my husband leaned over and whispered, "sometimes I worry that I'm a character in a Chuck Palinuk novel!"

Poor guy... his life was pretty normal before he met me! :)

So I was having lunch today with a Writer/Director friend of mine who was regaling me with her latest tales of being treated badly by younger members of her crews. Some pretty horrifying ageism is alive and well in reality TV, if you ask me.

It's no secret. You can be a lot of things and still be employable in TV... as long as you are not OLD.

Our conversation moved on to family and then the pictures came out of the wallets. I handed over my picture with #1 son, favorite daughter-in-law, peanut, amazing husband and the teenager. She's met them all before and knows #1 son. She remembers teenager from when he was 9! She marveled at my gorgeous family and all their changes... and then a thought hit her.

She blinked at me a couple of times and said... "does this mean you're like a... grandma?" She lowered her voice for the last word, because you never know who's sitting at the next table.

I swallowed hard. I'm not the picture of a grandma... but honestly, who could deny a face like that? Besides, I looked it up and the average age for grandparents today is 47... the new middle age has been reset to 60. I'm somewhere in between. (Note: any family member who post my actual age here, will have their author privileges revoked!)

I had made a vow to myself when I knew Peanut was coming into the world that I didn't want to do that creepy thing of asking to be called some lame-ass nick name like Dodie or Pooky or anything to avoid the G-word. I'm just not going there. I'm Peanut's grandma, plain and simple and I'm going to fly that flag with pride!

So I smiled at her and said, "As a matter of fact I am a grandma... isn't he adorable?" Then I told her about how I took yesterday afternoon off from my heavy writing schedule to go with peanut and DI-L to the little lake to feed the ducks. I may have sacrificed some forward motion on the page count, but it was totally worth it.

Touchdown!

I spent ten months of my life imagining what our son would be like. What his firsts words would be, who he would look like and how he would act. I examined the DNA code and its intricate double helix structure and have to say that this little boy is a surprise in every way. I knew we would have a boy. I imagined he would have dark hair and dark eyes. I figured he would be a little bossy, (like his mommy) and a little funny (like his daddy). I never imagined the little blond-haired blue-eyed sweet, shy and sometimes stubborn child which makes everyday worth waking up for.

I knew being a mommy would change me. I figured I'd get less sleep, that my priorities would change and that I would feel pressure to make sure I wasn't responsible for future therapy sessions. That being said, I didn't expect to gush and glow over someone passing gas. I never thought I'd become a fan of everything "Wiggles." I certainly didn't think that I'd take pride in hearing the word poopy muttered by anyone. Life is funny that way!

Our little peanut (16 months) is in our eyes, absolutely brilliant. I remember thinking for so long growing up how funny it is that as children we have our parents on this pedestal and we think that they know everything and that they are totally perfect. I didn't imagine as a parent I would have that same feeling about my child. I have to say that this must be the perfect age, and if I could freeze time, I'd freeze it right now. I wish every day, every minute, with him would last a lifetime.

Our son, football fan extraordinaire, has completed us in every way. He is not what we were expecting, but certainly beyond our wildest dreams. In his own words, we scored, "Touchdown."

All Righty Then...

We survivied Christmas... always a good thing.

Everyone's mellow and just playing out the end of the year. We all have our new toys to figure out and play with. For me it's the Blackberry 8700C... for the teenager it's the Sidekick (another smart phone) and for the husband it's the XBox 360.

Yes. Santa was good to us this year and frankly I'm glad it's over. It's not that I don't enjoy it and it's not that I get over stressed, I just find myself wanting to move on. Deal with it. Get it over with and forge ahead. I feel the same way leading up to an election because of the way they bombard us with political ads.

Doesn't it seem like the whole magilla of Christmas is just another string of political ads... or is it just me?

Whooshhh...

You hear that? That's the sound of the month screaming by at like Mach 10...

It's not that I haven't thought of my blog since the last post of December 7th... it's just that I have not yet mastered the art of writing in my sleep. (If I had, my blog would be full of posts and the manuscript I promised to have FINISHED this month would be sitting, neatly printed, on a stack at the corner of my desk. )

Instead the blog is empty and the manuscript is about halfway there. Hey, I'm an optimist. The manuscript is half-finished as opposed to hmmm... what would be the empty side of that? Half-unwritten I suppose. Yes, it's definitely half-written.

On the home front... the good news is my Christmas shopping is entirely finished even though I'm half-wrapped, half-decorated, and half-prepared for the holiday that is whooshing toward me.

Is this different from any other year? Not really only that I'm not freaked out about it this year. Basically, you could say this is 'just the NEW me!'