Back to the Grind

Ah - vacations are wonderful. Too bad they have to end.

Just wanted everyone to know I'm home and ready to get back at it. Had a few complications though, my laptop being one of them so I'm expecting a new laptop later this week (an IBM thinkpad this time so we'll see if I have better luck).

I'm off to take Ellie for a walk as she is driving me INSANE with all her barking and puppy-chew-everything-including-the-ankles energy.

I'll write my Roses Coloured Glasses 50 Books exercises when I get home (I've missed the first two but I did read them. Although I had to turn off the email because there was so much crap coming through - really - people - learn group posting etiquette puhleeeze!!!! (in my best Thurston Howl the 3rd impression)

Hope you all had very productive weeks - I'll catch up on all my reading this evening. :D see you all soon!

Conversation Exercise 2

Here is my revision to the conversation exercise I am working on now.
It is not at all edited for spelling, punctuation etc. etc. - All I did was write.

The room was hot. Though the sun was well past the horizon, it wasn't getting any cooler in the house. Pete took off his jacket and laid it on the well worn arm of the green and gold sofa. Thinking about the taste some people don't have, he strolled to the window. Being an old cottage there were double-hung windows that never seemed to open wide enough. Inwardly hoping the window would open even just an inch more he shoved hard and was rewarded with the dull scrape of wood on painted wood. Three more inches would make a difference
he was sure.
Satisfied he turned as Billy walked in carrying a tumbler of
scotch and a highball for Pete. Pete took the drink and sampled, sighing as the liquid soothed his parched throat. This hot weather was going to be the death of him.
Turning to face Billy, he saw the toll the last few hours had taken on
him. His face was grey, his eyes dull and somber. He was most definitely unhappy.
'She does love you.' It was matter of fact. Pete had never seen
Elizabeth this enamoured in all the years they'd been friends. Never. Not once.
Pete wanted to get it through Billy's head, needed to make him understand and see reason before Elizabeth was released. Maybe it would be harder than Pete thought to get it through his thick head.
'Really. And what about John.' Billy took the defensive again. His words strong and full of distaste. Pete needed time to think about the right way to steer the conversation. How could he make Billy see what had happened so many years ago. How could he explain it so
that he'd understand without feeling pity or sympathy for Elizabeth while avoiding the guilt he knew Billy would feel. He just didn't know
where to start.
'What about John.' More demands. He had to know. Billy wanted answers, no - he deserved them.
'Never mind. It doesn't matter anyway.' Disgusted with himself for not finding a way to tell Billy, and annoyed that Billy didn't give up, Pete turned to the bookcase and pretended to look at the titles of the books even though he knew them all by heart. He needed to avoid the anger and calm himself.
Grabbing Pete's arm, Billy swung him around around, spilling the scotch down the front of Pete's blue dress shirt. The liquid seeped into the fabric and spread quickly.
'Try telling that to John.' These people were infuriating. They protected her like she was porcelain. She wasn't going to break. Hadn't she already demonstrated that she could look after herself? She made it clear that she didn't want anyone and that included Billy.
'What doesn't matter and why the hell are you talking about John?'
There was an edge to Elizabeth's voice as she made her demand. The tray of lemonade, glasses and sweets she'd carried into the library teetered as she trembled. The time was coming and she'd have to answer his questions sooner rather than later. Pete took the tray from her, poured a glass of juice. He handed it to her hoping it would help her find some strength.
'I'm just looking for some answers.' But Billy couldn't face her so he turned and looked out he window at the dark that seemed to be enveloping the grounds. He didn't want to look at her, he only wanted to hear what she had to say.
'Looking to be nosey more like.' He tried to say it under his breath, but it was loud enough for Billy to hear. And Billy's reaction confirmed it. There was going to be trouble and Pete wasn't sure he wanted to stay around for it. The guy couldn't leave well enough alone. Why couldn't he take Beth's word for things.
Billy's frustration was clear. Whirling away from the window he slammed his glass on the side table. Scotch and melted ice sloshed over the side and dripped down the glass to rest on the wood. His face was no longer the pale haunted face he'd seen moments ago, it had changed taking on a tinge of red. His breath huffy and haggered, Billy took a step toward Pete, one fist clenched the other outstretched ready to grab.
'No you don't.' Elizabeth's firm tone told Pete she was ready. Her palm pressed against Billy's chest as she quickley moved between the two men she loved most. Her gaze swept from one to the other. Stopping briefly she made eye contact with Pete. A look passed between them and Billy watched Pete's body relax slightly.
Pete caught the look that told him she could handle it but he couldn't
help feeling protective. He'd been doing it for so long how could he stop now?
'Why can't you understand I did what I did because of you.' Turning to Billy her lips trembled as she tried to hold back the tears, tears of anger and hurt.
She bit her lip when she saw the resentment flash over Billy's face.
'Don't blame me for your mistakes. I'm not going to be anyone's scapegoat.' He was angry and she couldn't stop it. Maybe when he heard he'd understand.
That was it, the last staw and Pete felt his composure break. 'Now you listen to me. If Beth says she loves you, then she does. Beth isn't a liar and she doesn't do anything for no good reason.' He defended Elizabeth even while he saw it would be a lost cause. Billy would never understand because he couldn't see anybody's point of view but his own. Stubborn, the two of them. They deserve each other.
'So what about John then?' He had to know but she certainly wasn't
forthcoming with her information.
'You know nothing about John. You never have and until you take those beans out of your ears you never will. Your mind is so focused on Billy that your brain isn't letting you see the truth. And you say you're a good cop.' If Billy wanted a fight he was sure going to get it.
Pete was over heating. Maybe he just needed another drink. He thought the room couldn't get any hotter, but sweat was
starting to form on his brow and he was certain it came from the anger and disappointment he was feeling toward Billy. The air outside the room was still, no breeze moving to cool things off and there were no signs there would be a reprieve from the heat any time soon.
'No Pete, don't say anymore. It's for me to explain. For me to deal with.' Her throat was so dry even the tart lemonade hadn't helped. Her words came out as a whisper. She swallowed hard hoping it would give her time to compose herself. Lightly, she wrapped her
arm through Pete's and glided him to the door. She stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his cheek. She combed her fingers through the damp bangs moving the hair from his eyes. It was an act of love, sisterly love he'd experienced his whole life. He appreciated her gesture though he knew she did it without thinking. He accepted that and asked the question he already knew the answer to.
'What was that for?' He took her hands and stared into her eyes
finding what he was looking for. He knew she'd be ok on her own. She was ready to do what needed to be done.
'Because I need to do this alone.' With a half smile, she left Pete standing in the hallway watching with feelings mixed with love and pride as she closed the heavy mahogany door and faced her fears.

It Isn't WHAT you Say....

My mom always told me, it isn't what you say it's how you say it.

I found myself lecturing my daughter last evening because she didn't get it...puberty...enough said...lucky me.

We were discussing the fact that she did nothing all day yesterday to help prepare for our trip, and that when asked to do a simple job, she got pouty, defensive and mouthy...hence me telling her the same thing my mother told me.

It's not what you say dear, it's HOW you say it.
(of course I'm going through the same thing with Ellie. She decided she's going to be a talker...yup - I said, Ellie, get down from the table and she did this little growl, grunt groan, puppy bark so cute I couldn't help but laugh thing, I said, Ellie, don't bite, she did the same thing, I said Ellie, I'm not a chew toy and she said YES you are and I couldn't help but laugh again...She's so cute and already getting big, she is now 12 whole pounds of pure puppy fun.

So, all this talk about how we say the things and the emphasis we put on our words, it can be difficult when you read something to know the tone...just like email - perhaps from now on I'll have to write in my emotional state and facial expressions when I send an email so no one takes them out of context. Wouldn't that be funny! I think my hubby would say I've taken the whole writing thing a bit far - and yet, in some deep recess of my brain, I think it would be fun.

Which brings me to my next conversation exercise.

Here is the bare bones conversation.

'She does love you.'
'Really. And what about John.'
'What about John.'
'Never mind. It doesn't matter anyway.'
'Try telling that to John.'
'What doesn't matter and why the hell are you talking about John?'
'I'm just looking for some answers.'
'Looking to be nosey more like.'
'No you don't.'
'Why can't you understand I did what I did because of you.'
'Don't blame me for your mistakes. I'm not going to be anyone's scapegoat.'
'Now you listen to me. If Beth says she loves you, then she does. Beth isn't a liar and she doesn't do anything for no good reason.'
'So what about John then?'
'You know nothing about John. You never have and until you take those beans out of your ears you never will.'
'No Pete, don't say anymore. It's for me to explain. For me to deal with.'
'What was that for?'
'Because I need to do this alone.'

So what did you think when you read this? Do you see anything in your head? Do you know who is speaking, what they are feeling by the words they say?

'NO WAY! ' She shouted enthusiastically, spilling her coffee on the table as she tried to jot down all of her great ideas. 'Of course you don't get a feel for the conversation. There are no feelings, no senses, no descriptions. We don't know who the people are, except for Pete.' she paused gathering her thoughts. 'Oh wait, that was Ellie spilling my coffee because I'm outside in my favourite spot but the little table .... never mind!' Exaspterated, she knew she could never explain just how much the puppy liked coffee and she was certain always spilled it on purpose.

Anyway, back to my point. There is no feeling in the words, the reader has nothing to go on. This could be a happy conversation between a couple of drunks, or a yelling match between two people in love with the same person.

So what did you see when you first read it?(I'll post the revised conversation later.)

Conversation Revision

So - I'm trying my hand at editing my conversation.

While I was pleased with what I'd written, I hadn't edited it. I had only written in additional information to assist in seeing inside the characters. I didn't use much in terms of atmosphere and even in this revision I didn't. I stuck with strictly changing some of the things I wasn't pleased with...repetitive word use, etc. etc. *grin* Insert big thank you to Roget's online thesaurus!

Here is the conversation exercise revised. I am certain I will try my hand at revising it again to add more elements as I learn about myself, my style and my voice, and of course my characters.

'It's your job.' He said it so matter-of-fact, almost snotty, that it cut
and cut deep. Who was he to judge? Who was he to think that her job didn't
matter, to her or to others?

'It isn't just a job.' She spat the words back at him with extra sarcastic emphasis to justify her positioning. Her work was important, she worked to keep her community safe. 'It's my life, what I live every day. I can't see my life without it. And I certainly wouldn't work at another job that didn't give me as much satisfaction and self gratification as this does. '

Passion. Billy liked that in her. He hadn't meant to get her riled up, but it suited her. If she was this passionate about her work what was she like about things that affected her on a more personal level? Maybe now was his chance to discover how to make that passion boil over.

'Why do you like it?' It wasn't a question it was a demand. He wanted to get inside her, make her justify her choices, to find out what made her tick. It wasn't going to be easy. She would see to that he was certain.

'Why do I like it? I don't like it, I love it. I was born for it. You like what you do, I can tell. You were born for your job too. Some of us are you know. There's nothing else that would suit either of us.' She found it easier to turn it around on him and find out more. Elizabeth knew just enough about Billy Bodine to know he'd follow up, maybe spill something that would give her some insight into that nasty secret he kept locked up in that gorgeous head of his. He couldn't let her get the upper hand. Let's see what kind of chauvinist you really are Detective Bodine. That was something. She picked up a pen from the desk and jotted down a line on the note pad. Possible chauvinist. Needing to be in control at all times. Hmm, she touched the pen to her forehead and moved her eyes over to look at Billy. Sounded familiar.

That was something about her he had been able to learn over the last few days. Elizabeth accurately read people and she was always making notes - he noticed a small note pad in her purse that she would use to jot down things as she worked. A grocery list maybe or things she forgot to take care of. He moved his head a bit to try viewing what she'd written, but her handwriting was flowery and the words seemed to flow together. Reading upside down really wasn't his strength. Maybe he should work on that. He squinted and made out the word CONTROL. At least it looked like control.

Glad for the break in conversation, Billy let her write her notes while he thought of how to explain that he loved his job, his resonsibility to the community his duty to his family and to himself. At least she was talking to him. He wanted her to talk, not give him the painful cold shoulder she'd treated him to at the school yesterday. He tried not to wince at the shots she took. Her aim had been dead on.

'It's a career not a job, not just something to do to pass the time. Every day I get to live the fantasy of an average man.' He smirked at the look that came over Elizabeth's face. He liked the way her brow furrowed when she was thinking something through, how she steered the conversation away from her again. She had a habit of doing that, but he would find out what he needed. It would just take some time.

'Is that why you refer to it as playing?' She toyed with the cap, replaced it on the end of the pen then tapped it lightly against the desk. Yes, he had referred to it as
playing. 'What do you mean?' Billy cocked his head sideways and looked at
Elizabeth over the monitor. She put the pen down and danced her fingers
over the keyboard. The light from the screen made her hair glow.

She bit her lip as she concentrated on finding the information online.
It was sexy, her mouth, her lips, her hair. Everything about her. He fought
the primitive urge to grab her and kiss her. He wanted to taste her, she
looked good enough to eat.

Glancing up from the screen Elizabeth saw the lusty look but wrote it off as zealous reminiscing. She remembered what he'd said to his partner earlier, and how he'd said it.

'You and Red. You told him to, let me see if I get this right, "saddle up and
let's go play".' She grinned knowing she'd mimicked him pretty well.

'Yeah, it is like that.' Oh her smile could melt the coldest heart. He sobered quickly
with the thought- it could be his next. Was he ready? 'You know when you
were little and played cowboys and Indians? Or you pretended to be Wonder Woman, since I really don't see you much as a gunslinger.' She'd make one hell of a
Diana King, and her butt would look great in those little red shorts.

She snorted a bit under her breath. He had a sense of humour. What would he say if
he knew she liked to be Annie Oakley and pretend to shoot pop cans in her back
yard?

'And I bet you were always the cowboy, in a white hat saving the damsel in distress.' She pictured that and he looked delicious. This was no time for daydreaming. To keep from drooling at the thought of him riding a horse in the Old West, and to reign in her imagination, Elizabeth directed her attention back to the computer, to reality.

'Nope, you got me all wrong. I was always the Indian.' She seemed surprised at that and it pleased him.

'The Indian?' Now that was interesting. Usually children would shy away from the perceived notion of the underdog. The image Elizabeth had envisioned changed to Billy in leather chaps riding bareback.

'Saving my village and winning the beautiful Indian Princess.' With a sly sideways smile, he winked, stepping outside the safety of his hard exteriors he performed for her. Pleased with himself that he'd surprised her again.

'Hmmph. Figures.' Uncomfortable with the detail of her imagination, she let the image she held shatter as she pressed the keys to print the document she'd been searching for. It was time to get back to work. Playtime was over.

to Journal or not to Journal

That is the current question:

If you like chocolate, and most of my friends and acquaintences do, I want to send you along to Jenna's Romantic Notions and take a look at the contest her agent is holding.

It has to do with creating a journal or diary that lets the reader see inside your characters.

I highly recommend going over there and checking out the details from Jenna's Blog.

If you do this, good luck - I'd be interested to read some of the entries.

As an update to my BIAW - I've not had much success the last two days, I've only written about 1000 words between the two days. I've had appointments and I'm busy getting ready for holiday next week.

Hopefully I'll get some done this evening.

:D

Fun and Games

Tag - I'm it - thank you MsCreativity. I'll see if I can do this question justice.

If you could write a novel about any subject, what would it be?

Well I'm really into romantic suspense - I've always loved a good mystery and some thrillers I've read have been good too but I prefer mystery to thrillers.

I guess if I could do anything I'd write a who-dun-it in the vane of Dame Agatha Christie (one of my personal favourites). The reason I would want to do this is because she was very successful as the at character development and plot - so many of her heros/heroines went on to solve multiple mysteries.

I would write a mystery involving a youngish couple who, eventually, after solving many mysteries together, fall in love and live happily ever after.

Since most of us are already writers of some type, we are probably already writing that novel about that subject we always wanted to write about....n'est pas?

So - how about you Stacy?

Doesn't it Figure

It was a forced update day from Microsoft. I don't mind that so much but what I do mind is the fact that every time there is an update to Windows I have to reinstall my Office 2007 beta.

This of course just happened as I was getting ready to turn my cue card notes (an idea I got from Lisa Gardner's site) from paper to wordprocessor.

I was just on a roll with that conversation exercise I had been working on which is actually part of the story I'm working on as well and when I went to open up my Word I got the error.

It takes about 25 minutes for the system to reinstall the software and fix everything up but I'll start with the barebones conversation. I also took out all the 'he said/she said' crap and replaced it to make it sound not so grammar school. In total today I've got 2000 words and 10 cue cards, plus a few short dialogues to work on. Not too bad for one day (although it was way more than my one hour - and I'd do more but I need to shower and get ready for my physio as it is in 45 minutes).

'It's your job.'
'It isn't a job. It's my life, what I live every day. I can't see my life without it.'
'Why do you like it?'
'Why do you like what you do? Because I was born for it. You do like what you do, I can tell.'
'It's a career for not a job, not just something to do to pass the time. Every day I get to live the fantasy of an average man.'
'Is that why you refer to it as playing?'
'What do you mean?'
'You and Red. You told him to, let me see if I get this right, "saddle up and let's go play".'
'Yeah, it is like that. You know when you were little and played cowboys and Indians? Or you pretended to Wonder Woman, since I really don't see you much as a gunslinger.'
'And I bet you were always the cowboy, in a white hat saving the damsel in distress.'
'Nope, you got me all wrong. I was always the Indian.'
'The Indian?'
'Saving my village and winning the beautiful Indian Princess.'
'Figures.'

'It's your job.' He said it so matter-of-fact that it cut and cut deep. Who was he to judge?

'It isn't just a job.' She spat the words back at him.Didn't he know how important her work was, how hard she worked to keep her community safe. 'It's my life, what I live every day. I can't see my life without it.'

Passion. Billy liked that in her. Maybe now was his chance to discover where that passion came from.

'Why do you like it?' It wasn't a question it was a demand.

'Why do I like it? Because I was born for it. You like what you do, I can tell. You were born for your job too. Some of us are you know. There's nothing else that would suit either of us.' Easier to turn it around on him and find out more. Elizabeth knew enough about him to know he'd follow up, maybe spill something that would give her some insight into that nasty secret he kept locked up in that gorgous head of his.

'It's a career not a job, not just something to do to pass the time. Every day I get to live the fantasy of an average man.' He smirked at the look that came over Elizabeth's face. He liked the way her brow furrowed when she was thinking something through, how she steered the conversation away from her again. She had a habit of doing that, but he'd found out what he needed. It would just take some time.

'Is that why you refer to it as playing?' She toyed with the cap, replaced it on the end of the pen then tapped it lightly against the desk. Yes, he had referred to it as playing.

'What do you mean?' Billy cocked his head sideways and looked at Elizabeth over the monitor. She put the pen down and tapped on the keys. The light from the screen made her hair glow. She was biting her lip as she concentrated on finding the information online . He fought the urge to tangle his hands in her hair and kiss her. Oh she looked good enough to eat.

Glancing up from the screen Elizabeth mistook the lusty look as a reminicing. She remembered what he'dd said to his partner earlier. 'You and Red. You told him to, let me see if I get this right, "saddle up and let's go play".' She grinned knowing she'd mimicked him pretty well.

'Yeah, it is like that.' Oh her smile could melt the coldest heart. He sobered quickly knowing it could be his next but not knowing if he was ready. 'You know when you were little and played cowboys and Indians? Or you pretended to Wonder Woman, since I really don't see you much as a gunslinger.'

She snorted a bit under her breath. He had a sense of humour. What would he say if he knew she liked to be Annie Oakley and pretend to shoot pop cans in her back yard.

'And I bet you were always the cowboy, in a white hat saving the damsel in distress.' She pictured that and he looked delicious. Elizabeth directed her attention back to the computer to keep from drooling at the thought of him riding bareback in the wild west.

'Nope, you got me all wrong. I was always the Indian.' She seemed surprised at that and it pleased him.

'The Indian?' Now that was interesting. The image changed to billy in leather chaps riding bareback.

'Saving my village and winning the beautiful Indian Princess.' With a smile that could melt the coldest heart, he winked knowing he'd surprise her again.

'Hmmph. Figures.' The image shattered as she pressed the keys to print the document she'd been searching for. Playtime was over.

Coffee Talk

I have to push my deadline back by 15 minutes...I got caught up on a blog and still haven't made my coffee yet.

Oh - and I really have to let out the puppy and have a play with her so my writing will begin at 8:30 instead...wish me luck! :D

A Week You Say

I have JUST discovered the Book in a Week workshop happening over at Villa in Tuscany and thought I'd share a goal for my day 1 - which is a day late - but as I said in my comment, better late than never.

Goal for day 1: my hour of writing will commence at 8:15 am (after I have had my coffee)
I want to tackle my two main characters. I'm not happy with what I dredged out of my brain on them the other day, so I'm going to work out the kinks on that.
Perhaps if I have an opportunity I'll also try to get some more 'writing' done. I'm going to follow the guidelines posted on the Villa site regarding the recurring theme of JUST WRITE and DO NOT EDIT (which will be hard for me because I always for get what I've written).
I have physio this afternoon so who knows if I'll be able to write this afternoon after I get home. I may just need a nap since my body always hurts after the physio.

Anyway, this is about writing, not pain - or am I trying to draw a comparision to my writing being as painful as my back LMAO - ha, that is amusing!

So - head on over there it isn't too late and get rolling with the writing momentum!

PS: Sue - when you read this - I just want to say I'm so happy you were able to get so much done yesterday on your WIP. Congratulations! :D

Better Left Unsaid

I heard that this morning. A comment that a mother at baseball made to her daughter and the daughter turned, telling her mother that 'perhaps that was better left unsaid'.

I almost spewed my coffee out my nose as the young girl was only about 8 or 9. The mother looked absolutely appalled, and to be honest, I agreed with the kid.

That got me thinking about other things. Have I said things like what the mom said to my own daughter about her baseball skills and if so, how could I fix it?

Well it doesn't seem as though I have anything to worry about. When I asked my girl she said all was good and that I'm a very supportive mom who only wants her girl to give 100% all the time. *heart glowed*

I took my portable office with me to baseball today and sat waiting for her instead of dropping her off for a few hours and coming back to the ball diamond. I thought I'd get some work done, some ideas down and so I set to work.

Reading over a file I found from about two years ago I realized that perhaps what I wrote back then was also 'better left unsaid'. I must have been going through something horrible at the time because it was complete crap. What I wrote made sense on a grand scale, but just didn't flow and sounded very amateurish...and I don't even remember writing it so that tells me something. Then again, I often don't remember what I wrote. I was the same in university when I had essays to do. I would research them and write and edit them, but don't ask me to tell you about what I wrote except for the "facts". Which makes me think of Dragnet...LOL

My mind is wandering. I think I'll go take a look at some of the writing I did on the weekend. My girl is walking Ellie, Honey-bun is working very late, so right now the house is mine.

It is true, Silence really is golden.

(and as an aside...I finally joined the Pink Heart Society so I should think about getting that on my blog).

WHOO HOOOO

Success - no matter how little of it, is still success. I don't know if anyone said that before me, but I'm SO happy I have to share. But first I need to put on a light so I can see what I'm doing...
*clicking light on*

The house was so nice and quiet (at least until about 2) then I had a nap, but it's what I did before the nap that has me really excited.

I took the ideas I talked over with my hubby last night and put them down on paper. It's a GREAT idea and I hope no one else has done one like it, we'll see I guess when I get rejected for doing something totally not original. But that's quite a long way off.

I have four characters ready to go, and I've got a great start on a few pages so I feel a bit of accomplishment.

While I was working today on my one story though, I ended up with three complete ideas for related stories. It's scary! The ideas just flowed.

If only I could put pen to paper - or fingers to keyboard - and actually get the words that bring the story to life. I'm not in a hurry or anything. I have felt the success of the day and I'm rewarding myself with a lovely glass of wine and a game of Poker online!

Wish me luck!

When the Mood Hits, Free Seminar and so much more

I finally had the nerve to review an idea for a story with my husband.

He actually listened without laughing at me, which I thought was very kind because I really expected him to. Instead he shocked the crap out of me by saying he thought it was a great story line and that any help I need in terms of police procedure he said he'd be more than happy to help me.

I have to say I was truly shocked. You know in those great romances where the character's heart feels so full it will burst? Well that was how I felt. It was such a wonderful feeling to know that he'd support me when I was so afraid he'd say it was a stupid idea. (I look for honesty from him and he doesn't let me down).

Anyway, I just wanted to share how great it was to run that by him and have him not laugh...Now since my girl is away at a sleep over, my husband has FINALLY taken my car to do the brakes and rotate the tires (when I pressed the break it was metal on metal because there were no pads left on the one side - thank goodness it doesn't rely on one brake to stop) and he's taken my brother with him, I have some time to write so I'm off to do that now.

I have a couple of goals for the next few hours:
1. Get the main idea down
2. Write something - anything just to get the juices flowing and see where it takes me.
3. Get my exercise for the conversation done.

OH - and I registered for a free online course at: Roses It is a free workshop from August 27 - September 2, 2006 and covers the following:
1. What do you want?
2. What's Stopping You?
3. Pre-writing Planning
4. Cranking out the Pages
5. Tools for Goal setting and Planning

I'm very excited because I think this will be just the ticket for me. I'll keep you posted on the progress.

And as luck would have it my Anniversary is during that week. IF you have any great ideas on what I could do for my hubby - please let me know. I was thinking of a Sundance Balloon trip since they lift off not far from our place. They have champagne balloon rides, but it isn't cheap. Then again there is always dinner...There are times I wish we still had an Olive Garden...oh how I miss the Chicken Marsala *wipes mouth where the drool is*

OK - I'm stalling...Now - off to work I go. I hope you all enjoy your Saturday! Wish me luck! :D

No Quiet Time for Me

I was really looking forward to some quiet time yesterday - and I almost had it.

My girl was being entertained by her video games, my brother (who is staying with me while my parents are on vacation) was being entertained by watching her, his dog slept all day and my dog had fun with a new toy - an empty plastic water bottle. I believe she was just trying to get at the last few drops of my Tangerine Nestea drink, but maybe it was just the newness of being allowed to chew something other than her own toys.

Gathering all of my materials, I was heading outside to my spot to try to work through a few of my writing exercises when my darling husband, hair still damp from his shower, opened the back door and told me I had company.

My girlfriend Kim decided to show up out of the blue as she was entertaining a friend from Manchester, England who has come to visit Canada before going to New Zealand to work.

It was a nice visit that lasted two hours longer than I really wanted, but I did love listening to her talk. Her accent is really neat! And she had some great stories about traveling so I could live vicariously through her journeys.

The problem was, I didn't want to be rude and say - get the hell out :D *giggle* I doubt I would say that to anyone besides my husband...so they were here for THREE hours. THREE precious hours that I could have spent writing.

By the time they left, ,my back ached so much I could hardly move. OMG - it just hit me. I should have used my back as an excuse! Well...now I know better.

I just hate being rude when unexpected visitors show up. During my work day I always try to have time set aside for the "unexpected", you know the server crashes, the support calls, the email problems. It seems easier somehow to set aside time for that when I'm at the office, but when I'm at home it is so different.

How do you deal with the unexpected in your day? Do you find the unexpected things happen more often when you have an epiphany or when you are writing "drivel"? (I love that and just wanted to use it in one of my own posts!

I'm It

So - I've been tagged! HOOORAY! Thank you Stacy! Any writing is better than no writing at all - so here goes....

1. One book that changed my life: The E-Myth Revisted by Michael Gerber - as a self employed small business owner I couldn't have survived 5 years without it!
2.One book that I have read more than once: any one of the 38 Agatha Christie books on my bookshelf
3.One book I would want on a deserted island: The Encyclopedia of Murder and Mystery by Bruce F. Murphy - so that I can figure out what mysteries haven't been written and write one - or at least do a lot of day dreaming while I'm on the island (i would have gone with the Kama Sutra but if I was alone, then that would just suck)
4.One book that made me laugh: The Journal Of Mortifying Moments by Canadian author Robyn Harding! - a bit too Bridget Jones Wanna-be, but I really laughed outloud because I actually have friends like our Heroine, Kerry Spence
5.One book that made me cry: There are a lot of books that made me cry, so I can't really choose just one....but I think I would have to say that listening to my daughter read GOODNIGHT MOON was a real tear-jerker moment for me (a happy one of course)
6.One book I wish I'd written: Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park and Sense and Sensibility (can't choose just one because I LOVE all three of them)
7.One book I wish had never been written: There isn't a book I wish had not been written...just because I don't like it or agree with it doesn't mean someone can't write what they want
8.One book I am currently reading: The Nero Wolfe Primer by Rex Stout
9.One book I have been meaning to read: A Good Hard Kick in the Ass - by Rob Adams

Now - of course I always have at least 5 books on the go at any given time, usually one or two are work related and the rest for pleasure and I love books so it's hard to choose only one!

I'll tag by email.

Getting Started: What's the Hold Up?

I have a problem.

I'm sure it is a simple problem to fix, but I just can't seem to fix it myself.

Have you ever had so many good ideas that you just don't know where to start?

My problem isn't the ideas, although I do have quite a number of them. My problem is that I'm still so new at this whole writing thing that I don't really know where to start.

So instead of writing and getting my thoughts down, I'm busy researching and working on different aspects of writing. I admit, I REALLY need to work on some of the things I'm working on. But I wonder if it's supposed to be this hard to concentrate or if I'm just scared.

I don't want to be laughed at (unless I'm making a joke) or ridiculed (unless I am being a complete @$$ - which doesn't happen very often). I want to be taken seriously and I want to get all my thoughts, ideas and feelings down on paper so that I can write something that entertains me.

So - why am I so afraid? If I'm writing for me, why does it matter what someone else might say? I think it's because this is really new and I'm trying to jump in with both feet at the same time as I'm trying to make sure I do it with as few mis-steps as possible. The fear of taking a wrong turn or doing something the wrong way seems to be holding me back a bit.

I need to find a way to get over this fear...no excuses, I REALLY need to do this - it isn't a want anymore, it's a powerful need in me to create something satisfying...so maybe tomorrow I'll have some quiet time in the late afternoon that after physiotherapy when I'll be able to dedicate some time to writing.

What about you? What keeps you from writing? How do you get over your fear?

Gorgous Blonde with Brown Eyes

Meet Ellie.

She's a fun loving natural blonde with beautiful brown eyes and a lovely smile.

Affectionate and loving, it takes Ellie a bit to get over her shyness, but once she does - look out!

Ellie loves long walks in the park, sloppy kisses and late nights watching the stars. She also has a love for toes and men in jeans!

She's a playful sort, and loves games. Her current favourite is Frisbee.

---------------
So, please meet the latest addition to my family, Texas Ellie, a golden lab crossed with barn dog! (not purebred, but we won't hold that against her)
She is 7 weeks old and gets on well with our cats, so she fits right in. (it could be because the cats think her puppy food is actually cat treats!)



I'm in love!






EDIT: here is a picture of Bailey. This was taken a year ago april when we had a sudden snow storm just after we'd had some really WARM weather...It isn't the best picture of her but it's what I had on hand.

I'm NO Expert

At least not yet...but I need to get some feedback on this.

I'm reading a novel and I found a small piece that didn't make sense to me, at least not on the first four readings of it, so I thought I'd try all of you.

here is an excerpt from Covert Makeover by Mallory Kane, a July issue Harlequin Intrigue.

"Some morning show was on TV, but Johnson's eyes were closed and one hand worried the oxygen tube inserted in his nose."

So, I must ask...worried what? The hand worried the tube would fall out? Maybe not get enough oxygen to the brain? How can a hand worry? Shouldn't it be something like - one hand held (or even protected) 'the tube'? The above paragraph is a direct quote from the book, but it left me a bit confused at what the author was trying to say. I don't know if perhaps it is because I would not think to use the word "worried" to describe a hand or even what a hand would do on a breathing tube. Why does it seem to me that the sentence is incomplete, which is really what I thought the first few times I read it over while I tried to understand what the author was saying.

I believe I get the idea, and that is that either the hand is securly holding the tube or he is running his hand up and down the tube, but to me, the use of the word worried doesn't seem quite right.

So - can you help me out? what do you think of the use of the word in that particular sentence. There is no description about his hand on the tube after that...

As an aside, this book is excellent. I am thoroughly enjoying it...how can I tell when I think a book is excellent? When I start it at 6 am because I can't get back to sleep and then show up late to work because I forgot what time it was...

Good thing I'm the boss! :D

**edited to fix my spelling errors...they tell me it's time to cut my nails again!