A Good Day

Life is full of ups and downs, but every day is a blessing. 

A good day is icing on the cake.

I'm looking forward to another sweet day.

When I checked my e-mail this morning, I had a note from our dear next door neighbor that he had read my post and was shocked to learn that I'd been in the hospital.  To be honest, things happened so quickly that we never thought to call anyone.  However, it proved the worth in updating my blog!

My return to work yesterday felt pretty good and it was a very productive day.  The cold will take a few more days, but is getting better, the voice is coming back, and so is my sense of taste.

Tracy popped in a small pork roast in the oven yesterday after he got home from classes so dinner was basically done by the time I got home at five. It was the first meal in over a week that I could taste and enjoy. After dinner, Rick and I just kicked back and watch a movie then off to bed. That's as normal as life has been lately, but it does move on. In fact, as I write this, I'm distracted by the huge folder on my desk with all our tax information that I need to sort through. I'll probably try to tackle that tonight.  I always feel a huge load taken off my mind once I have that done so there's no point in putting it off any longer.


PS:  Neil, for future reference, if you don't see my office light on in the early morning hours, you'll know something is up. LOL

An Interesting Week

I meant to posted several days ago but have been a guest at our local hospital until yesterday afternoon. Ugh.

At least it was a very nice private room.

I had progressively felt worse as last weekend drew to a close, but on Monday I had an appointment to see the doctor to get an injection that would boost my white cells and thought all would be well. By the time I arrived at his office I was literally dragging myself around. Those who know me, understand this is not the norm for me. I'm generally pretty high energy and ready to jump from one project or task to the next. Words can't express how frustrating it was to feel like that.

I'd been warned that the side affects to the injection would give me flu-like symptoms. How bad could that be, right?  Always think positively, I say...but the truth is, it produced sharp shooting pains in all the major joints and across my torso. Not fun.

The doctor put me on an antibiotic on Monday for the chest cold and I thought okay, that's that. The following day (Tuesday), things got worse and by four in the afternoon, my fever reached 102.5.  My chemo instructions indicated that I needed to call the doctor if I ever had a fever over 100.5.

By 9:00 PM, I was admitted into the Oncology ward at Ball Memorial Hospital and there I stayed until yesterday Saturday, February 18.  All the blood work, chest x-rays, and whatever other lab work they did all came back negative for any type of infection, but the fever didn't break until late Thursday.

I know the other patients on the floor were in far worse shape than I was. One family was considering placing their loved on in Hospice and here I was, being treated for the chest cold.  I felt like crap about it, but I'm told the game changes once you begin chemo treatments and the slightest cold or sign of infection could lead to something much worse.

The hot shower I took last night did me wonders--those sponge baths just don't quite do it for me. And this morning I slept until 9 AM.  Still have bit of the cold hanging on and plan to take it easy today, but over all, I'm feeling pretty well.

Once again, Jessica and Tracy stepped up to the plate to take care of mom and dad. God I love them!

Guys, I promise, one of these days we'll get our lives back. Besides, we have a wedding to plan!

And so it begins ...

Let's just say it's been an interesting two days here at home. I had my first chemo treatment this past Friday afternoon.  Thank goodness our daughter Jessica came with me. We are never at a loss for things to talk about and that's good because what was supposed to have been a three-four hour procedure turned out to be a solid five.

We start with the standard blood work and vitals check. Then came the IV bag and a half of saline, a small bag of anti-nausea medication, and another of one of steroids. Once those were administered I was given two types of chemo medication one IV bag at a time. I finally floated out of the Cancer Center a litter after 6 PM. Literally--it took me 18 months to lose 30 pounds and gain five pounds of fluids in a single sitting.

I was planning a quiet evening at home, but based on how chaotic life has been these past nine months, I should have known better.  We weren't yet out of the building when I received a

panicked call from our son Tracy that his dad wasn't feeling well. We've all had a cold this week, but Rick seemed to have survived the bug or at least hadn't yet shown signs of it.  It only took me about ten minutes to get home from the center, but to my horror, when I arrived, Rick had a temperature of 103, his hands shook, and he'd lost the strength to even get up from a sitting position.  Turned out he has a sinus infection, a relatively "simple" thing to treat unless you've had a stroke, can't swallow, and are a diabetic. Our doctor got him started on a liquid Z-pack. He's been on it since Friday along with Tylenol around the clock.  He has gotten some of his strength back, but is back in the wheel chair for now. His temperature continues to fluctuate--I'm hoping it'll break today. At least it's down to 99.1 for now. 

Oh but we make a pair these days.

As for me, I didn't immediately feel anything different after the treatment yesterday other than feeling quite bloated and tired. The huge change came the following day. The steroids I've been taking for three days (no more now until the next treatment on 3/2/12) leave a horrible sensation in my mouth. I felt terribly tired and to be honest, a bit disoriented. It's so frustrating. I'm the list person around here--usually well-organized and yet I couldn't even think straight enough to write out my grocery list.  Jessica to the rescue again. God bless her. She's going to do my shopping today. :)

Feeling a bit better this morning, but in spite of having slept well, I find that I can do one task (laundry, make the bed, fix a meal--little things) and, have to sit down and rest.

It's been an overwhelming four-month experience to say the least.  The long list of information thrown at me about the many side affect to the treatments, things I must do to over come them, and the endless list of things to avoid just make my head spin.

I can't say what tomorrow will bring except that it will be one day closer to getting well.

I reached a milestone of sorts yesterday.  It was my first day at work after a three-week leave since my surgery. Believe it or not, it felt good to get back into the rhythm of a work day.  Crazy, I know, but it's hard to give up a 40-year routine. And ... okay, I'll admit it. I was starting to miss everyone.


The weather certainly didn't hurt my recovery time. Can't believe how unseasonably balmy it's been in Indiana these past few weeks.  We're about an hour north of Indianapolis so if you were visiting our Hoosier state during Super Bowl weekend, you know what I'm talking about. Daffodils and crocuses have popped up out of the ground throughout the yard. I'm so ready to get to work on our flower beds. Alas, it is Indiana. Today the temperature dipped into the 30's and tonight we're in for about an inch of snow.

Now that the stress and worry of the past few months have been put to rest, I started to make a list of the things I want to do--things I hadn't done in years like sewing. My mother was an amazing seamstress so from the time I was little, I've sewn. Of course back then (30-40 years ago), making our own clothes was cost-effective.  I nearly fainted when I saw the price of a pattern these days minimum $16!!  Holy cow!  Oh well, I bought a pattern and a couple of different fabrics and enjoyed the experience all the same.  I've also been thinking of getting my oil paints out. Can't remember the last time I painted. It seems all my "hobbies" got pushed aside 10-12 years ago when I started to write fiction. Sadly the stress of the past several months sucked the life out of my creativity ... I'm pretty sure my oils are dried up too.

Note to self: Go to art supply store.

On the bright side, working on this blog lit a spark. I'm embarrassed to say how long I've been working on the third Harper novel. Suffice to say much too long. I rewrote it twice, typed myself into a corner, and can't seem to get out of the edit mode. However, I did manage to write a few new chapters last week. All I need now is the momentum to stay with it. Maybe, if all goes as planned, this is the year it'll happen and Harper can finally solve that case once and for all.

Eighteen month old Izzy came to visit this week. She's a rambunctious English Bull with a lot of puppy still in her. Jessica has been taking care of her for us while hubby recuperates from his stroke.

She certainly made Rick's day. She's calmed down a lot and we're hoping to bring her back home this summer. We'll need to fence in a portion of the yard though for her to run in. Not the brightest when it comes to watching out for cars and we live on a corner lot. And look at those paws. She can easily knock you down, but is as gentle as they come.

I just got back from the doctor's office a few minutes ago. According the the surgeon, everything looks great. Had the staples removed and am now sporting several butterfly bandages.  Removing them wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be.  As the incision heals though, the skin and tissue around it pulls. My movements are still very restricted—can’t lift anything heavier than a half gallon of milk and I can’t bend over (it pulls the incision terribly).     

I did, however, find a handy tool my mother-in-law, who used to live with us, left in the closet.

I didn't realize how clumsy I was until the moment I couldn't bend over to pick things up. The old "claw" has been a life saver! LOL

 

Finally, after months of not writing, I looked through the third book in my Harper series, Grave Witness, that’s been in perpetual progress for what seems like an eternity and began to write again.

Granted, the creative juices didn’t flow back in all at once.  No, it was more like a trickle, drop by drop until I found my voice and got back into the character’s head again. 

But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. My writing was always in the back of my mind. Its absence was as painful as the anticipation welling inside a child's head while he sits in his doctor's office waiting to get a shot. I knew my return wouldn't be easy and I was right. It took a lot more than desire to force myself into the old chair in front of my computer to concentrate on the plot.

Just like a runner warms up before getting on the track, I had to prep my mind which had turned to mush over the past several months I spent dealing with matters that had nothing to do with writing. Life and family comes first and don't we all know it.

At any rate, the best way to “prep” is by reading. Sometimes, I’ll read random chapters from my favorite novels and let the author's words soak in.   I also love reading about unsolved crimes and turn the clues around in my head and wonder why.  It makes for a great, “what if.” And then there are the how-to books and journals.  I have more than I can count and a few of my favorite are stacked up on my desk now as I write to remind me that if I did it before, I will do it again.

 

Sadly, that first chapter I’d written months before—the one that seemed so perfect didn’t feel terribly right any more.  It’s not a bad chapter. In fact, I actually like it. It's just not the perfect beginning. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with it. It’ll probably get bumped down possibly to third or fourth. The important thing though is that after a few days, I wrote a new beginning. It's short and may not the best--it is after all a first draft. Ironically, but not news to any writer, I spent more time on the opening paragraph—that all important portal to the rest of the book, than I did on the remaining 800 words.

Time will tell if they are the perfect opening words. Still, I tend to beat myself up when I can’t get it “right” and when that happens, I love reading quotes about writing from other author. That's when I know I'm not alone. 

Consider these little gems a pep talk.

“Never polish the first chapter until the last chapter is written.” –Tony Hillerman

“If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” – Stephen King

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” –Earnest Hemmingway.

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” –Sylvia Plath

“The thing about a story is that you dream it as you tell it, hoping that others might then dream along with you, and in this way memory and imagination and language combine to make spirits in the head. There is the illusion of aliveness.” –Tim O’Brien

“To write it, it took three months; to conceive it three minutes; to collect the data in it all my life.” –F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Writer's block…a lot of howling nonsense would be avoided if, in every sentence containing the word WRITER, that word was taken out and the word PLUMBER substituted; and the result examined for the sense it makes. Do plumbers get plumber's block? What would you think of a plumber who used that as an excuse not to do any work that day?


The fact is that writing is hard work, and sometimes you don't want to do it, and you can't think of what to write next, and you're fed up with the whole damn business. Do you think plumbers don't feel like that about their work from time to time? Of course there will be days when the stuff is not flowing freely. What you do then is MAKE IT UP. I like the reply of the composer Shostakovich to a student who complained that he couldn't find a theme for his second movement. “Never mind the theme! Just write the movement!” he said.


Writer's block is a condition that affects amateurs and people who aren't serious about writing. So is the opposite, namely inspiration, which amateurs are also very fond of. Putting it another way: a professional writer is someone who writes just as well when they're not inspired as when they are.” ― Philip Pullman

“Writing is finally about one thing: going into a room alone and doing it. Putting words on paper that have never been there in quite that way before. And although you are physically by yourself, the haunting Demon never leaves you, that Demon being the knowledge of your own terrible limitations, your hopeless inadequacy, the impossibility of ever getting it right. No matter how diamond-bright your ideas are dancing in your brain, on paper they are earthbound.” ― William Goldman

A New Day

We were under a winter storm watch yesterday afternoon. It started to sleet around 4 PM just about the time our son Tracy and I returned from the market. Woke up this morning to what looks like about 2-3 inches of snow. It's freezing, but the temperature is supposed to get up into the 40s tomorrow. That's how it is here in Indiana. If you don't like the weather, just stick around a minute or two.

A few days ago, I mentioned neighbors and friends and how great they've been to my family, especially over the pasts several months. As I was working on the post, I heard a snow blower outside my window. Our next door neighbor, Neil, had our front sidewalk and the walk leading up to our front door cleared off. So sweet of him. He's not in the best of health either, but that's the type of person he is. 

Jessica has been caring for our 50-pound puppy (will be 2 in July), Izzy, since last summer. She's my husband's dog and was/is more than we could handle after he went into the hospital. Izzy is well ... massive and doesn't understand she's not a lap dog--granted she gets away with it. Anyway, Jess took her to the vet this morning for her annual check up and shots. Doing well--still holding her girlish figure.




Moo is mine. :)







I started to work on my novel again this week. It's the first time since May that I've had the clarity of mind to do so and I'm feeling quite good about it. So wonderful to finally feel as if the worse is behind us.

Angel of Courage

Great news today!

The pathology report came back negative on the six additional lymph nodes they removed on 1/12.  Now it’s on to the next step in the process--the first round of chemo in about four weeks.

The surgeon removed the drainage tubes from my side about an hour ago which were causing me discomfort this week. Feels SO much better.

Our daughter Jessica gave me this angel of courage the day before my mastectomy. Today it's doing a victory dance!!

I have to admit I still can't quite wrap my head around this. All I know is that I've received a new lease on life I didn't even know I needed.

Friends

Where would we be without them? 

I've lived in Muncie since I was 13 and have worked at the local university for 31 years. In that time, you might say I've met a few people. Some have been passing acquaintances while others have become dear friends.

From the first day I took Rick to the hospital on June 3, to the day I announced I had cancer in November, my work colleagues have been absolutely amazing. Everyday someone would bring in a piece of pie or soup, some brought in casseroles for me to take home so I wouldn't have to cook. Some days I'd go into my office to find a card on my desk.

One friend bought me Danielle and Oliver Follmi's, "Latin American Wisdom for Every Day Revelations" ... just because... (she knows of my Spanish heritage and knew I'd love it)  while another gave me a 2012 daily planner that includes a daily biblical verse. It's already jam packed with appointments through March. :)  Nearly every day, one of my work pals has stopped by to ask about Rick and/or Jessica and Tracy. Often our talks end with a hug.  I returned to work in December after my first surgery to find a beautiful Poinsettia and card from my co-workers. Imagine the ripples my latest news caused.

Sometimes friends are waiting for us in the least expected places. One of my regular stops on campus is the post office located in our student center. I usually go there at least every other week and over time, I've gotten to know the ladies who work there on a casual basis. Our conversations usually revolve around the weather, etc. A few weeks ago, I needed to drop off some mail which included several payments to doctors, etc. I told the attendant about Rick's stroke, she shared a similar experience with a loved one. We chatted a bit more while I waited for my change, and then  went back to my office. Two or three days later, I opened my mail at home to find a note from her assuring me 2012 would be better and a gift certificate for a free coffee. I hardly know her, but the fact that she took to the time to show her concern is more heart-warming than I can possible say.

These are a few of the cards I've recently received from family and friends. Some are hilarious! Love them!

When I began to write fiction in 2002-03 I joined numerous online writers groups. Over the years, several of these writers and I became friends. Most I've never met, some I've talked to on the phone, but for the most part, our friendships have developed and grown through the wonder of e-mails.We've shared in each others joys and triumphs as well the losses over the years. We've exchanged photos of our children, pets, and gardens. We've helped each other edit our books and shared a few jokes.  The point is, every morning I wake up to countless encouraging e-mails from people I've never met, know like the palm of my hand, and who simple want me to know I'm in their prayers. One of my writer friends, has sent me a card on a weekly basis. Wow!

No list of friends would be complete without a mention of our fantastic neighbors. Not a day goes by when one of them doesn't call or e-mail or offers to run an errand, or take one of us to the doctor, etc. Love you guys!!

So I have to laugh whenever I pre-register at the hospital for a procedure and they asked, "Do you live in a safe environment? Do you have a support system?" God love them, if they only knew.

Thank you all for your kindness!

In typical Indiana style, the weather has been crazy. A bitter four degrees on Sunday, a high of 54 by the end of the week. This morning I woke up to the sound of pouring rain. I think I'll do some writing today. It's time.

The days leading up to the surgery on Friday morning were far worse than the surgery itself. Within two hours, I was in recovery and when I came to, I was amazed at how well I felt--no pain, no nausea or dizziness. Yay! I spent the night in the outpatient surgery center--lucky me I was the only patient in the ward and slept like a baby.  It's amazing what rest can do to lower your blood pressure. It dropped from 154/70 to 113/35 which  is normal for me. I have to say the only discomfort I have are the two drainage tubes/bulbs that thankfully keep fluids from pooling in my body.

By early Saturday afternoon, the temperature had remained at a steady 14 degrees, but the house was filled with the smell of the pot roast that had been cooking in the crock pot since around ten that morning. I sent out a few e-mails to several nieces/nephews and friends after which I spent a wonderful leisurely day playing Monopoly and watching movies with my family.

It was still bitter cold here in Indiana yesterday. At least the sun was out and for a few hours in the afternoon, I sat near a sunny window reading, "Writing Lessons You Can Learn From The Master ... Write Like Hemingway."  It actually reads more like a biography, but it's interesting. I have so many books stacked up and waiting to be read. Thought I'd start with this one in the hopes it would inspire me to write again.

I'm seeing the surgeon again today. Hope he's able to remove the tubes.
 







 

The Big Day

I got off work early yesterday. My sister drove two hours and arrived just ahead of the snow. The bitter cold evening called for a big pot of pumpkin soup and deli sandwiches.  Thankfully, Tracy's college night class was cut short and I was thrill to have both our children, he and Jessica home for dinner. Even Rick was able to enjoy a small cup of soup ... something that hasn't happened in a long time. It was a wonderful evening of sharing stories and lots of laughter--just what we all needed.

I finally went to bed around 11:30 last night. Not sure if I slept. I remember tossing. I don't remember my dreams and now, it's 5:50 AM. I'm the only one up.  As I sit in the dark writing this post, I feel amazingly calm and I'm reminded of a quote a dear friend of mine shared with me yesterday (author unknown).

If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them.  When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope?  We have two options, medically and emotionally:  give up, or fight like hell. 

I certainly intend to do the latter!

Surgery is at 10:20 this morning. All prayers and happy thoughts are welcomed!

Another Morning At the Doc's

This time it was hubby's turn. They performed an esophageal dilation in the hopes it would help him swallow.  After the stroke, his esophagus closed up and has been receiving his nutrients via a feeding tube in his stomach.  Rick, daughter Jessica, and I were at the facility four hours for a 15 minute procedure.  Basically, they inserted a scope down his esophagus to his stomach, checked to see that everything looked okay and then began to dilate the esophagus tissue. Time will tell if the positive effects will be permanent, but for now it seems to have worked and he’s thrilled.

 He was supposed to have had this done on December 28. We spent all of December waiting for the GI's office to call with the orders to get him off his blood thinner (a must to be off the medication for 7 days prior to having the procedure done.). Three doctors were involved, his GI, his cardiologist, and our family doctor. We must have made more the a dozen calls to get some answers. The response was always the same, "Someone will call you back." But they never did.  Finally, on December 27, it took a surprise visit to the GI’s office and two nurses who spent 2-1/2 hours to figure out which office had dropped the ball.

This was frustrating to say the least, especially because hubby had high hopes of being able to eat something on New Year’s Eve. The important thing now is that it's done and he's physically feeling better, and the boost to his spirits goes without saying.

My sister is coming tonight. Can't wait. One day and counting. 

A ray of hope

A good day is when the oncologist's first words are, "I have nothing but good news."

The PET/CT scan indicated no trace of cancer anywhere else in my body.  No need to remove the lymph nodes either. What a relief!

The New Year Ahead

As the old saying goes, “Out with the old and in with the new.” Unfortunately, sometimes the old follows you into the New Year, stirs things around. When that happens, there's nothing left to do but to continue to deal with it.

I never thought the words would ever come from my lips. I mean, cancer is something that happens to someone else, right? It's not suppose to hits close to home, but in November 2011, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

I had a lumpectomy on December 2, and am scheduled to have a mastectomy this Friday, January 13. Contrary to superstition, I'm told 13 is a lucky number--let's hope. Fortunately the cancer was caught in a very early stage during a routine mammogram. This development comes on the heels of my husband’s stroke in June from which he is still recovering. Needless to say, I had no problem bidding 2011 goodbye. On the flip side of things, when life turns things topsy-turvy, it lets you see things from a new perspective and that's not entirely bad.

I wasn’t going to blog about this or make it public. In fact, as active as I have been online since 2004, this is the first article I’ve written since my husband’s stroke. However, several close friends have encouraged me to journal my thoughts. After letting it all sink in for several weeks, I've decided that it may be good for the soul after all. More importantly, if my experience helps another ... well that's what it's all about, isn't it?

Last Sunday I had a PET/CT scan. I was instructed to go on a low-carb diet/no dairy/no sugar for at least four days prior to the scan. I decided to play it safe and did it for seven. Bad timing considering all the cookies and candy we had left over from Christmas. Ugh!  My only thoughts while I was slipping in and out of the scanner (quite comfy I might add) were of food. Whatever I decided to eat was going to be loaded with carbs.

Normally a pillar of strength, as the surgery date draws near, nervous, anxious tears seem to be just beneath the surface. I hate that. Yet, in spite of the challenges ahead, and there will be many, I can't help but feel grateful that I listened to that little voice that told me get checked in November instead of the usual time in March--thankful  that this "pest" was caught early, and the team of doctors on my case is treating it aggressively. Most of all, I'm grateful for the love and support of my amazing family, wonderful friends and neighbors, great co-workers, and faith that God hasn't led me this far down the path to let me fall.

So ... I've only made one New Year resolution--to add “cancer survivor” to my bio.

Hope to get the results of the PET/CT scan this afternoon when I see my oncologist. More later.

Wherever the Yellow Brick Road Leads

© Marta Stephens 2010 all rights reserved

I was off from work 12 days over the Christmas break and I spent a considerable amount of time in front of the television watching old movies. One evening, I turned on the television and watched the Wizard of Oz for the million and one time until one in the morning. Yes, yes, I know the songs and each scene by heart. I can even do the dance steps when I put my mind to it. Then again, who isn’t drawn to Dorothy and her band of misfit friends? All the Tin Woodsman wanted was a heart, the Scarecrow a brain, the Cowardly Lion some courage and Dorothy had her heart set on a one-way ticket home.

To recap, the four battle against the Wicked Witch of the West who wants nothing less than Dorothy’s powerful, magical shoes. The four eventually overcome the unbearable obstacles she shoves in front of them. They reach the Emerald City and the Wizard of Oz who they are convinced will grant their wishes and secure their happily ever after. To their dismay, however, the Wizard insists they prove their worth first by bringing him the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West—a most unreasonable demand, if you ask me. In my cynical state of mind, the plot had an uncanny resemblance to the relationship between authors, agents and editors on the road to publication.

Days later, friend and fellow author, Susan Whitfield, invited me to read and comment on her blog post titled, “Making Decisions About Publishing and Promoting.” It’s a great article about her writing and publishing journey—I highly recommend you to read it. Now, I haven’t written a thing in months and have all but (kind of) given up on my writing. Still, I was intrigued with the title. Frankly, I don’t know if Susan wrote the piece with me in mind (ha) or if it’s really true that I’m not the only writer with publishing concerns—shocker! At any rate, it hit home. It didn’t make me want to rush over to my computer and start writing, but it started me thinking and sometimes a little spark is all it takes.

While I addressed Christmas cards, finished my shopping, wrapped the presents, cleaned house, and started my baking I continued to think about Susan’s journey and her to-the-point question, “How do you make decisions about publishing?”

My only excuse is that I blindly fell into it. I feel very fortunate to have been able to secure a small press to publish my first two novels, but things eventually changed and unexpected hiccups occurred. All seems to be fine now, but often it’s the very door we don’t want to close that opens a new one. At the time, I decided it would be wise to take on the "wait and see" approach before my next submission to that house and began to write my third novel. I got it in my head that I needed an agent. After numerous months and countless queries, the multitude of rejections shook my confidence. Yes, yes, a handful of agents did request to read additional chapters, but I haven’t heard back from them in months so they don’t really count, do they? This experience nearly stripped me of my self-confidence and worth. On the upside, like Dorothy and her skip down the yellow brick road, the many hurdles and long respite from creativity gave me a vast amount of time to re-evaluate my purpose as a writer. In other words, why do I write, who do I write for, and where do I really want to go with it?

I quickly found myself thinking about the blissful early days of my writing career when words poured from my brain, when stories formed out of the sheer passion to create, and I actually had the courage to believe I would succeed. To my amazement, success did come. Not in huge sales or movie contracts. Not in New York Times reviews or best seller status, but in the smiles on the faces of people I met--those who had read my novels. I also found it in the great reviews and reader comments. What could be more gratifying to an author than for someone to say they couldn’t put down their book and stayed up into the wee hours of the morning to finish reading it and then were sadden because they wanted the read to continue?

Okay so at the end of the movie, Dorothy convinces the Wizard to take her back to Kansas in his hot air balloon. Things go terribly wrong though and he leaves without her. Crushed and feeling doomed to live in the Emerald City forever, Dorothy begins to cry. Enter Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, who comes down in an orb to comfort Dorothy. Glinda reminds her that she always had the power to get back home and asks what she has learned on her journey to Oz. The answer, of course, is (come on all you Wizard of Oz lovers, read it out loud!), “Well, I - I think that it - it wasn't enough to just want to see Uncle Henry and Auntie Em - and it's that - if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!” At that point Dorothy clicks her heels three times and repeats, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” and is shot back to Kansas and into reality.

Okay, so I don’t have ruby red slippers. Even if I did, I doubt clicking my heels three times would get my manuscript published. Still, I realize now how far I’ve strayed away from the driving force of my enthusiastic beginning. The power to succeed was mine all along, but I got lost along the way and didn’t see it until now. Guess it’s time to clear off my desk, nudged myself toward the keyboard, and start the magic again.

2010: Day 212 Query Letters Sent ... And Now I Wait

Okay, so let me see if I have this right. It’s been 35 days since my last post? Time flies I guess, the question is, have I had a good time? Yes and no, but trust me I’d never use the words “good time” in the same sentence with the words, “synopsis and query letter.”


As some of you know, I spent weeks/months looking at a blank screen before moving beyond the “I’m thinking about … I need to write …” phase, but I’m happy to announce that I finally have them done. In fact, I started submitting to agents on July 16. Most have a 4-6 week response rate so I don’t expect to get any word, good [I'm going to be really, really positive about this] or bad, until mid-to late August. To be honest though, I’ve concluded that it’s strictly a numbers game. The more I mail, the better my odds of finding a good match. Yes, yes, I know the query letter has to hook them into reading the synopsis and then hopefully the manuscript, but honestly there are so many variables most of which are completely out of my control. For example ... what mood will the agent be in when he picks up my query? Did he receive great news as he walked into his office, or is this the morning his mother-in-law is moving in? Is the agent trying to quit smoking or did she just lose ten pounds? See what I mean? No control!  I’ve had to keep reminding myself that what one agent turns down, may be exactly what will strike then next agent’s fancy and so … I’ll keep subbing.

With respect to the task of writing these hellish things, at least most of the references I’ve searched through agree on what the synopsis should include—identify the main characters, highlight of each key turning point of the novel, and spell out the ending. Still a million questions raced through my mind: have I written enough? Am I cramming too much onto the page? Do they really think I can reduce this novel to a two-page summary? Will the hook pull them in? Is there a hook? Eeek gads!!!

If the synopsis isn't hard enough to write, the how-to on writing the perfect query letter is really anyone’s guess. I say this not because there isn’t a template to follow, but because one really, and I do mean really, has to study each agent’s site and understand what he or she is looking for. If you’re lucky, the agent will offer samples of what he or she considers to be a “stellar letter.” I found a few of them, and in the process, I also discovered that while most asked for the author’s credentials and personal information in the final paragraph, one agent wanted to read that sort of thing up front with only a line or two about the story at the end.

Some agents want to know how much the author knows about him or her (translation: researched them and their firm), there are others who claim they don’t care how the author found them, they just want to read the bit about the story and understand why he or she should request the manuscript.

For authors who like challenges though, there's always the various submission guidelines. Just try to keep them straight in your mind. Do they prefer snail mail or e-mail? Believe it or not, one agent has an online submission form. Do they want the query letter and the synopsis, or the query and first five pages of the manuscript, or was that the first five chapters? No wait, this one only wants the first 1,000 words and how about the agent who only wanted a letter indicating she would base a decision on it alone.
It’s crazy and it’s taken a months to develop an initial list of agents, customize the letters, and write the “perfect” synopsis. In the meantime, life has continued to throw out the occasional one-two punch.

I decided to push all of this out my head while I wait and spent this past weekend cleaning out my home office. After all, I'll need a clean desk on the day when I get the “please send” right? I filled two trash bags full of pages I'd printed but hadn't read, used or referred to in years as well as hundreds of pages of old edits. I tore them into several pieces just in case the enterprising vagrant who rummages through the trash at night finds my manuscripts, steals my idea, and turns it into a New York best seller. More power to him, if that’s the case.
Anyway, prayers and good wishes are gladly accepted!

For those interested, I posted a bit more about synopsis and queries here: http://murderby4.blogspot.com/2010/07/queries-are-out.html

2010: Day 177. The Day Brought Some Progress

Well, I'm back and pleased to say all's not lost. I followed through with the steps I mentioned in yesterday's post and when I was ready to tackle the edits ... again, I put on my earphones, popped in my CD of Mr. Holland's Opus and got it done. ;)

My word count is down by around 300 words, so I'm obviously missing some text, but that's easily fixed.  All I need to do is compare my good printed chapters with the earlier electronic version to see what I need to update.

It certainly didn't take as long as I thought it would. So glad I didn't lose any sleep over this either.

2010: Day 176 A Devastating Mistake--Or Was It?

Yesterday, I had an opportunity to attend a ladys' tea and listen to a talk given by a missionary titled, "See Through Faith."  I'd listened to one of her talks several years before so I was really pleased to know she was the speaker again this year.

Her message was that no matter who you are, what you believe in, how much money you have, bad and unfortunate things happen to everyone, but if we look at those things (experience them) through our feelings or with our eyes instead of through our faith, we will only see the negative side of the situation and open the floodgates of anger and resentment.

"Imagined," she said, "that a loved one has a terminal illness, what are you going to do?  Your unwed daughter is pregnant, what are you going to do? You've lost your job; your home, your business, what are you going to do?"  She continued with several other examples each time ending it with the question, what are you going to do? Will anger make these things go away? "No, instead," she said, "accept that these things have happened, have faith, and keep trying, keep living and go on with your life."

I've always firmly believed that all things happen for a reason--the people we meet, the things we do, the events (good or bad) that happen to us, come into our lives for a reason. And so, as she spoke I thought of the many things that have happened to our friends, their families, our family during these turbulent times and I was touched by her words.

Now then, what I'm about to share, isn't devastating or a life changing event, but as minor as it was in comparison, when it happened, I immediately thought of this woman's words and knew I'd been meant to hear them.

As those of you who have read my posts over the past few weeks know, I've complete my novel and have started working on the synopsis.  With the help of a handful of trusted friends, I've been busy polishing the manuscript. This morning, I read over the comments and suggestions my crit partner made to chapter 29 (out of 49). I worked on the edits until around two this afternoon. Imagine my thrill when I looked down at the word count: 74,350+!!

Today felt as if I could see the light at the end of the tunnel and it wasn't a train. When I finished working on the recent edits, I decided to work a bit more on the synopsis. This is when the train came plowing through. We were under another severe storm warning. It had started to thunder and in my rush to save my synopsis and shut down my computer, I saved it over my manuscript.

Yes, that's right, it's gone.  I won't lie, I gasped, I panicked, little beads of sweat formed on  my brow, but then I heard those words again. What are you going to do?  I can't explain it except to say they had an amazing calming affect on me. She was right, of course. Throwing a fit or banging my head against the wall wasn't going to reconstruct a 74,350+ word manuscript--only thing "to do" was to roll up my sleeves and get back to work.

I always print my latest edits and e-mail the entire manuscript to myself as soon as I'm done so on the up side, I have a hard copy of my final edits. Unfortunately, I hadn't gotten around to e-mailing it yet. When I checked, the latest version in my mail box was dated June 22. I opened the document and SAVED it to my hard drive. Then I pulled up all the edits JD sent to me since the 22nd.

I had to go back to chapter 13 and started comparing the edits to my hard copy and then updated my computer file again. Sure it's frustrating and it'll take me  several days to get it done, but like I said, it's not a life or death thing by a long shot.Will I be more careful next time? You bet!

Ironically, in the process of going back and checking the chapters one sentence at a time, I found a few things that he and I both missed and edits I'd overlooked. As I read through the text, I also discovered something I'd forgotten about one of the characters that will be key to a final chapter. Cool, huh?

Just another day in this writer's life. ;)