Being Published

People often have questions about being published. They ask me if I'm rich yet.
I love that one. And the answer is, NO.
Some ask me how I went about getting published.
Did I just send it and ask the publisher to publish the book for me?
Did I know someone?
Did I come up with the idea for the story and the publisher fills it in?
Has it changed my life?

All of the above are honest questions and probably questions that I would ask.

This is my story, and I would like to say that everyone who is published has a different story, a different path.
I started writing when I was in school. I think I wrote my first story when I was ten or eleven. I wrote on scrap paper, I wrote in notebooks, I wrote poetry and songs.
When I started getting serious about writing fiction, (About 12 years ago) I went to Wal-Mart and did research...because I didn't know what else to do. I went through the inspirational section and wrote down the names of publishers, the number of pages in the books, what the books were about. When I got home I researched the publishers, found their guidelines on their websites, and started reading books published by the publishing houses that I really liked.

I wrote on paper, filling notebooks with my first attempts at novel writing, and then switched to the computer. Finally, with finished manuscripts and the belief that I was going to be published, I started submitting to publishers. I feel for those first editors who received my amature attempts. I actually faxed a query letter to a major publishing house. Much to my surprise, the editor faxed me back and told me to send her the manuscript. She later told me, "Don't ever do that again." I would give the same advice. I can use the excuse that I was young and didn't know any better.

I wrote and wrote and wrote. I also received a lot of rejections.

I looked up articles on writing romance, writing fiction, writing non-fiction and writing in general. I studied books that I enjoyed, looking at how the sentences, paragraphs and chapters went together. I looked at what was marketable and what wasn't.

I found wonderful critique partners and writing groups and then I found an agent. Finally I found my voice and stopped fighting my muse. I gave in and wrote the books I wanted to write, not the books I thought I should write, or the books that others wanted me to write.

After 7 years of learning, I got that first contract. A year later I received my first contract with Steeple Hill. And I learned that I still had a lot to learn. I'm still learning.

That's how I went about getting published.
Did someone do it for me? No. I did it through hard work. People can help you get a foot in the door, but then it's up to you to prove that you can write the book that the publisher wants to publish and the consumer wants to buy.
Did I just send it in and ask to be published? No. But I wished it worked that way. I guess in a way, when you send a story in, you are asking to be published. Unfortunately the answer is often, NO.
The story ideas and the words are mine. An editor does look it over, point out problems, but the writing is up to me.

Has it changed my life? Yes, writing has changed my life. I have friends I wouldn't otherwise have had. I have a career that I love. I have less time for procrastinating than I used to have, and I'm working on being more organized, but that's okay.

choking dogs and cold weather

It's freezing outside, not even 30 degrees in April? Global Warming?

The icing on the cake--I have to leave the house, in this. I'm not sure what upsets me the most about that: brushing my hair on a Monday morning, or going out in the cold.

Nothing more to say, except that I'd rather stay in the recliner with my dog, drink coffee and work on a new book idea.
OH, the dog. She nearly died this morning.

NOTE TO SELF: Dogs can't put hands on throat in international sign of choking.

Its also difficult to do the Heimlich on a dog. Finger down throat...of dog, not self. Yeah, that's a TMI moment, but be thankful you weren't the one with your finger down the dog's throat at 6:30 am.

My life is so stinking exciting.

getting stuff done

Today's schedule. I need to finish edits on my September book, work on a new proposal, do laundry, dishes and unpack more boxes. Six weeks in this house and we're still surrounded by boxes. Yes, the procrastinating life sounds great, but in the end, the mess has to be dealt with.

Now if everyone will cooperate. That means: no phone calls needing my presence elsewhere, kids coming home on the bus and not needing the mom taxi. Basically life needs to be as abnormal as possible today.

What would be a great help is if the dogs would cross their legs and stop whining to go outside.

Oh, and I need to turn off the computer and leave it off.
right......

an end to cleaning

Because I want to do my part in saving the planet, cleaning has to go. There are several reasons why, and I think after I explain, all of you energy conscious ladies will join me in saying, NO MORE CLEANING.

Yesterday I overheard that the vacuum cleaner uses a lot of electricity. Because I care, i came home and tossed mine in the trash. We really need to conserve energy and I feel like I've done my part.

Cleaners. Horrible for the environment, bad for our lungs, they dry out our hands. And the containers are made of plastic.

As you can see, cleaning is an environmental hazard and should be done away with.

in the seventies women burned their bras.
Today we burn our dust rags!

NOTE TO STEPHANIE NEWTON

First, I want to say, my kids are fine. They're healthy and we've had no wire hanger moments this week.

Second.
Stephanie Newton's blog and her thermometer with the warm spring temps. Once i can get the chains on my tires, I'll be down to talk to you about that little salt in the wound moment.

Third.
i'm procrastinating.

Why? Because I really like sitting and doing nothing. That sounds a lot like being lazy, but I'm PROCRASTINATING! It's a big word and means 'putting stuff off until later.' Uh, yeah, much better than calling myself lazy.

I'm a PROCRASTINATOR.

It sounds like something important, like a gift, or a special skill.

And while I procrastinate, I am thinking about Cowboy book number 5, which is in the works.

WIRE HANGER MOMENTS

I would love to pretend I'm the perfect mom who never loses it, is never responsible, in the least, for the counseling her children will need in twenty years. The truth is, we all have WIRE HANGER moments.

NO, I don't mean we beat our kids with wire hangers. What I mean is, we all have that moment when we're pushed too far. We lose it. Our normally kind, patient, mommyself is lost to BAD MOM WHO HAS PMS, RUN FOR COVER....
It starts with: "Mom, come here, I need..MOM, where are you, Mom, I said.." or "Mom, he won't let me..."

Remember the scene in MOMMY DEAREST when Joan Crawford goes into the kid's room in the middle of the night and she finds....WIRE HANGERS.
OH NO, not wire hangers.

She loses it and yells, NO WIRE HANGERS. I don't think I enjoyed that line as much until I saw it again in Diary of a Mad Black Woman. Tyler Perry is a genius. Oh, sorry, sidetracked.
The point is, it wasn't the wire hangers that made Joan lose it. She'd already lost it at that point. The wire hangers were the 'last straw.'

My children sometimes push me to 'wire hanger' moments.

If someone tries to convince you they never have wire hanger moments, well, I don't know what to tell you. I can only tell you this, I'm a good mom, a good Christian, and I have wire hanger moments. That's reality and I think that we should be honest with one another. If we hide behind a mask of perfection, saying that we're perfect, our children are perfect, our marriages are perfect, then some young mother out there is having wire hanger moments alone and worrying that there's something wrong with her, that she's the only one losing it from time to time.

Oh, look, one of my little offspring has sneaked out of her hiding place with a note to tell me she loves me.
NO WIRE HANGERS!!!

STOP THE INSANITY

I moved three weeks ago and since I've moved, I've heard the same question every day, "Are you unpacked yet?"
For the record, the answer is NO. Every room of my house is full of boxes. The kitchen is the only room that I've unpacked, and it's a mess. The good thing is, I can use the excuse of, 'just moving in' for that mess.
Why haven't I unpacked.
Reason ONE: Procrastination.
Reason TWO: Children.
REASON THREE: LIFE.
procrastination. The obvious is that I love coffee and I'd rather drink coffee with my back to the mess than face it and unpack.

Children. Here's an example of a typical day: Kid 1 goes to work, has to be picked up seven hours later. Dogs have to be walked at least 4 times during the day. Dishes need to be done, laundry has to be washed. Drive fifteen miles, pick up Kid 1. Drive back. Kid 3 has to be picked up from tutoring. Kid 2 has to be picked up from practice. Off to ballet, go to the grocery store. "Mom, I don't have clean socks." Buy new socks. "Mom, what's for dinner." Order pizza. "Honey, I need deoderant." Go to the store, buy more socks, buy deoderant.
Go home, do laundry, clean kitchen, take dogs out again.
OH, wow, I have a deadline. This book has to be finished in a week.
zzzzzzzzzzzz
the end.
And no, I haven't finished unpacking. As long as I haven't unpacked, I have a reason for the house looking like this. And I'm not going to show you a picture.