Write On Target

Turning Point - UPDATED

2012-01-24T15:26:00.000-05:00

Most days are simply continuations of the day before or a subtle lead in to tomorrow. But some days are turning points. Today is one of those days.

Last night, not long after midnight, I finished edits on my new manuscript. A huge psychic weight lifted off off my shoulders. (As any writer knows, it's the next best thing to writing, "The End!") I played a game of Spider Solitaire in celebration, promised myself a Grand Marnier in the near future, and headed up to bed. At 6AM I got back up. I hadn't slept a wink.

I did, however, feel a cold coming on. At first I thought it was allergies, but instead of subsiding, the sneezes, stuffiness, and itchy eyes progressed. I haven't been sick, even with a slight cold, in almost three years.

2008

1982

The day after I got married, I was struck with a high fever. After all the planning and gown buying and reception-hall-picking and as-close-to-perfect-as-possible-wedding-celebrations were over, my body gave in.

That was a turning point.

And so is this.

I'm adeptly in tune with my body, as I think many people (read: women) are. The slightest ache or weakness is noted and carefully monitored by my inner doctor. Almost always, the ache or perceived rise in temperature passes, and my inner doctor relaxes and reverts to "on call" status. My body is again giving in, but not due to the beginning of a marriage.

My attorney emailed me this morning asking me to sign a document. I clicked on the page and saw, "Affidavit of Consent."

The marriage of the Plaintiff and Defendant is irretrievably broken.

October 2010

I will be signing my name on a divorce decree after 27 years of marriage.

A turning point like few others.

I know what you're thinking: Get plenty of rest and push the fluids.

That's exactly what I plan to do. And, then I'll hold my head high, put one foot in front of the other, and proudly walk forward into my new unimaginable future.


Laurie (my sister) & Peter's Wedding. 10.01.11 Centennial, CO

(Special thanks to my family, friends, and Bob Shelton for making that future possible.)

EPIPHANY: In regards to this post, a friend of mine wrote on FB: "I always got sick right after nationals. Means you've done great things, lady." She was a talented swimmer in HS. Interesting viewpoint, given it took me an entire year to complete my novel and am now dealing, in a more serious way, with the end of a LTR. Pushing yourself forward through the eye of a life-changing needle is like giving birth. Right now I'm in psychic labor, and the aches, pains, stuffy head, and sore throat are what I must feel to give birth to a new life...mine.

*I love that I found an art gallery to represent this post. Artistic expression, in all its' facets, is one of the things I'm most committed to at this turning point in my life.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock...

2012-01-17T17:01:00.005-05:00

Sitting in my study editing my manuscript, I hear the tick tock, tick tock of time passing by. As the 100-year old clock that belonged to my grandmother arouses my consciousness, I'm made aware of the tiny fraction of time I have left here on Earth.

As each second clicks by, I wonder...

Have I accomplished what I set out to?
Am I where I thought I'd be/wanted to be at this point in my journey?
Am I holding grudges that prohibit me from powerfully moving forward?
Have my dreams shifted purposefully or faded away?
Do those in my life know how deeply I love them?
Am I allowing the artist in me to be fully expressed?
Have I apologized to the people I've wronged?
Am I dancing in the rain or running for shelter?
Am I lifting others up and helping them reach their potential?
Do my children know their presence in this world is my greatest gift?
Will I make the most of the time I have left?
Will I have the courage to live the rest of my life in accordance with my values?
At every tick of the clock, am I being the truest expression of me?

A Novel New Year

2012-01-05T00:35:00.007-05:00

For my first post of the New Year, I'm not going to bore you with any of the normal BS like resolutions or things I hope to accomplish before the next ball drops (heads out of the gutter, people, the one in Times Square). Nope, I've got far more interesting news.

I FINISHED THE NOVEL I STARTED LAST JANUARY!!!
http://www.spike.com/video-clips/8th6j8/that-novel-you-ve-been-working-on
I know, amazing, right? No? Okay, fine. This may not be the most exciting thing you've heard so far this year, I mean, Michele Bachmann just "suspended her campaign" (bullshit way of saying, "dropped out of the race" - she probably learned it from Sarah Palin who "suspended her governorship") and Tim Tebow's conversations with Jesus have led my beloved Denver Broncos to the playoffs, but I hope we can all agree the fact that I FINISHED THE NOVEL I STARTED LAST JANUARY!!! is pretty damn exciting.

I'm currently editing and wondering why things are going so smoothly. Could it be that the more you write, the better you get? Or is it something more intangible, like luck mixed with determination sprinkled with more luck? Either way, I'm grateful. This was a difficult and cathartic book to write, and I'm excited to usher it into the world.

IN OTHER NEWS...

My cats, Mia (top) and Emma (bottom), still hate each other. I'm not being melodramatic, it's true. They can't stand the fact that the other exists on the same planet, never mind in the same house. We've tried everything, new toys, Pounce (aka Kitty Crack), whispering in their ears, scratching them under the chin, and blasting Stray Cats music, but nothing has worked. We even promised them each a new car (a Jaguar or Cougar), but they acted as if they could care less. Any tips on how to bond a friendship between two, female felines would be freaking fantastic.

Also, the countdown is on for a 10-day Caribbean cruise with my honey and my parents! Four weeks from this Friday we leave for Ft. Lauderdale. (What's with all the "f" words, you ask? I have no fucking clue!)

I've been asked by the Academy to keep my comments short, so that's all for now, folks. I hope 2012 brings you all the goodies you deserve. And, on behalf of insane people and comedians everywhere, let me say, "Palin-Bachmann - 2016!"

And one more thing... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ETHAN!!! I love you bunches and bunches x infinity.

No Big Deal, Only... The Purpose of Life

2011-12-19T09:00:00.001-05:00

Tis the Season to Reflect.

I celebrated my birthday this past weekend, and we're in the midst of the holiday season. In honor of time passing and days celebrated, here's a post I wrote a few months back on the purpose of life.

Good tidings to all!

Eureka!

I've got some good news, folks. I figured it all out! The search for a purpose, motivation for living, reason for the rhyme is so much easier than we thought: We are here to be awed by our own and each others' divinity.

If it's that simple, why is happiness so elusive?

Because we humans love to complain. We don't have enough. We're not rich enough, smart enough, good looking enough, respected enough, or loved enough. We wish [insert friend or relative here] acted differently. We wish certain things did or didn't happen. Wah. Wah. Wah. Poor, sad us. What's the point to all of our suffering and why is it so damn hard to be happy?

It's hard to be happy because we think everything needs to make sense!

Our purpose is not to understand, but to experience. We're here to love and be loved, to learn and to teach, to laugh and to cry, to amaze and be amazed. We're here to feel joy and anger, ecstasy and sadness, attraction and rejection. We are here to create, appreciate, and forgive.

Good Life/Bad Life. It's your call.

We've been granted a brief span of time here on Earth, and what we do with it is our choice. We can be cruel or kind, compassionate or uncaring, generous or stingy, selfish or selfless. We can manifest our gifts, challenge ourselves, and listen closely, or we can ignore our talents, be lazy, and remain deaf to the needs of others. Your choices determine the quality of your life. Don't eff it up.

What rocks your world?

My soul speaks through art. Writing music and books is how my soul communicates. Music, dancing, books, paintings, sculptures, and great acting move me in ways I can't explain. Other things that rock my world: Spending time with family and friends, delicious meals, CHOCOLATE, red wine, meditation, travel, and healthy living. FIGURE OUT WHAT LIGHTS YOU UP & DO THOSE THINGS OFTEN!

My Greatest Gifts.

My kids, my boyfriend, embraces from those I love, the sound of the waves, the purr of my cats, my health, the health of those I love, enlightening conversations, inspiring music, the words, "I love you," a good laugh...

These are not just things I enjoy about my life. These things ARE my life. These are some of my greatest gifts, and for that and so much more, I am profoundly grateful.

What NOT to do.

Don't let a moment slip by unnoticed. Don't pass up a chance to kiss your children. Don't miss an opportunity to express your love. Don't let a kind word be left upon your lips.

Live your life like your life depends on it.

In honor of this precious life I've been given, I hereby promise the following: To practice being gracious and grateful; joyous and generous; playful and powerful; creative and kind.

I will allow myself and others to make mistakes! I will take honoring and thanking and appreciating and loving to a whole new level.

That's what I realized today. What about you?

This is For the Children

2011-12-14T10:46:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I spend hours arduously contemplating every word I put in a post. Other times, random unknowns like this guy (Jimmy Kimmel? What the hell kind of name is that?) make my job so freaking easy.

Click on this link for some great holiday laughs.

http://youtu.be/q4a9CKgLprQ

Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves by, Robin O'Bryant

2011-12-05T10:00:00.141-05:00

I'm pleased to be able to plug a brilliant writer and a hilarious book. Robin O'Bryant is funny, talented, and supportive of other writers. I'm honored to call her a friend and excited to introduce you to her and her work.

Here she is (isn't she adorable?) and above is the cover of her book (isn't it cute?). The holidays are upon us, so why not treat yourself or someone you love with a copy? CLICK HERE TO ORDER. I promise, you won't be sorry.

BY THE WAY: Robin, being the generous soul that she is, has a signed copy of her book to give away to someone who tweets on Twitter about this post and/or shares this link on FB. Just make sure to leave a comment in the comment section letting her know you did this. Isn't that cool?

So, Robin, tell us about yourself, your book, finding your dream agent, and your path to publication. (And, two things for the record: 1) "Ketchup is a Vegetable" is NOT a lie, and, 2) I'm glad I'm not the only one stalking Jenny!)

Hah! Where to begin? I've been an avid reader and writer my entire life. As a child, it was common for me to have dark circles under my eyes from staying up into the wee hours to read. I've journaled since I could write a complete sentence and throughout my life have been repeatedly told, "You should write a book."

I wanted to, I really did. I wanted to be a writer but I had no idea what to write about. I was good at expressing myself in words but I wasn't creating new worlds or going all J.K. Rowling in my free time. Reading and writing were private passions until my third child was born. Three daughters in four years, it's all a blur. Do the math, people. That's a lot of crazy.

I was writing about my kids extensively, because that's what I do. I am compelled to write about my life. But because my husband and I lived hundreds of miles from our families, I was also sending out mass emails on a daily and weekly basis to update our families on our shenanigans. And I heard it again and again, “You should write a book.” (Please note: this doesn't always mean you should and I realized that this was my mom and she might be a little biased.) I thought I might have an audience when my family members started forwarding my emails to everyone in their contact lists and I began receiving feedback from people I didn't know. I started a blog and somehow convinced the editor of our local paper to let me write a weekly family humor column.

I realized I had plenty of material and a subject matter that I loved. I started writing furiously. I wrote while I fed my baby. I wrote while my two-year-old and four-year-old napped. I bugged the crap out of all my book whore friends-- because avid readers make great betas. I asked for feedback from anyone who was willing to give it. I joined my local Writer's Association and started going to group meetings to get feedback from people who weren't my mother.

I ordered books about writing query letters. I quietly stalked the Query Shark and any other resource I could find online and started writing drafts of my letter. I purchased 'The Writers Market' and started looking for agents who represented non-fiction humor and women's interest books. And I sent out my first few queries.

I queried widely and was rejected widely. Every time an agent was kind enough to tell me why they said no, I did what I could to change that part of my letter. I read as much as I could in my genre and poured over the acknowledgments to see if the author had thanked her agent and I made a magical discovery. My three favorite humorists all thanked their agent-- Jenny Bent. And when I say “favorite” writers, I mean like The-Beatles-Favorite. Like if I saw them in person, I would hyperventilate and pass out.

I began stalking Jenny. Not scary-stalking, let's all remember that I had three kids under four years old. I didn't have time to wipe after I peed, much less be threatening and what not. But I began reading interviews with Jenny online, learning what she was looking for and what she liked to read. I read her client's blogs and one of them even sent me a copy of her query letter.

By the time I wrote my query to Jenny, I felt like I knew her. The letter I wrote to her was more personal and more reflective of my writing style than any of the others. But still, before I pressed, 'Send,' I almost chickened out. Jenny Bent was totally out of my league. As other agents had pointed out my one little local newspaper column wasn't a big enough platform. This was my first book, and many authors never get their first book published.

Another agent had a requested a partial and a book proposal and I was waiting to hear back from her. My last thought before I sent the email was, “It's not going to hurt anything to send it. She'll probably never read it anyway.”

I received an email within the week from one of Jenny's readers saying Jenny wanted to read the full manuscript and I almost blacked out. I sent the manuscript and tried not to think about the fact that the agent who represented three of the funniest women on the planet had my manuscript and was actually reading it.

I received an email from Jenny's assistant only a couple of weeks later saying (this is burned into my brain forevermore) “Jenny is on a plane, doubled over in laughter reading your manuscript. She wants to offer you representation and would like to set up a time to talk to you.”

I screamed so loudly I woke up all three of my sleeping children. (Waking children during nap-time is a mortal sin and I've almost popped a cap in the UPS man for ringing my doorbell before. Even though he was bringing me magical under-eye makeup from Sephora.) I ran screaming through my yard to my neighbor's house and almost gave her heart attack.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Authors don't get signed from the slush pile. Not to high caliber agents. But I did. Jenny Bent is careful with her queries, people. She doesn't want to miss anything.

For the last two years, Jenny has been an amazing mentor and editor. Her first revisions, though VERY kind and 100% accurate, hurt. We cut over half of the material and did a major rewrite. But she saw my strengths and my potential. Her advice helped me find my voice. She encouraged me to focus on my strengths and to throw away what was subpar. She helped me shape my manuscript into a book that we both love.

My platform grew. I self-syndicated my column in three states and I found outlets online and in print for my writing. And while I've been “waiting for something to happen” I wrote another book. Getting published isn't a race and now that it's finally here, I'm glad I took my time. I can't imagine this book being "out there" before now and I'm thankful for every single round of revisions. (I'm also glad they are over.)

Read the best of Robin's Chicks, Robin's blog about about surviving motherhood with three daughters and a sense of humor. Learn helpful tips such as: how to breastfeed behind your back*, how to talk to your daughters about male genitalia, and how to write a pet obituary. Purchase "Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves" on Amazon or download to your Kindle.

*Only applies to lactating women with a DD cup or larger.

Praise for, "Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves"

by, Robin O'Bryant

"The humor of Bombeck and warmth of a best girlfriend... one of the funniest things I've ever read." Celia Rivenbark, New York Times bestselling author of, You Don't Sweat Much for a Fat Girl

"Witty, insightful observations from my favorite mom on Twitter!" Stefanie Wilder-Taylor, bestselling author of, Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay

"A book about motherhood that will make you nod with recognition, while simulaneously reminding you schedule a hysterectomy." Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess, author of, Let's Pretend This Never Happened

Summary
If you don’t have anything nice to say about motherhood, then… read this book. Robin O’Bryant offers a no holds barred look at the day to day life of being a mother to three, running a household and the everyday monotony of parenting.

It’s not always pretty but it’s real. Whether she's stuffing cabbage in her bra… dealing with defiant yet determined daughters… yelling at the F.B.I... or explaining the birds and the bees to her preschooler… you’re sure to find dozens of humorous and relatable situations.

From the creator of Robin's Chicks, one of the South’s most popular blogs on motherhood, misunderstandings and musings, comes a collection of essays that will not only make you laugh and cry, but realize that you’re not alone in your journey.

Sit back and relax, pour yourself some “mommy juice,” throw a fresh diaper on your baby and deadbolt the bedroom door to keep your kids out… because once you start reading you'll be too busy wiping away tears of laughter to wipe anybody's butt.

Robin O'Bryant is a self-syndicated humor columnist living in the Mississippi Delta with her husband and three daughters. Visit her at www.robinschicks.com to point and laugh.

This One Goes Out to the One I Love

2011-11-30T23:04:00.000-05:00

EVERLASTING

As I stare across both time and space, to the deep end of your soul

My heart melts like a prayer embraced, my mind is swallowed whole

When did this dive of passion turn to star-filled endless nights?

When did your ageless mansion come to wrap around me tight?

I don’t know, I may never know, these questions linger still

All that matters now, my love, is with you I’m fulfilled

Whenever I’m with you, my love, my restless tides are thrashing

Time ticks on, side by side, endless oceans crashing

Wherever I’m with you, my love, my galaxies are smashing

Time stands still, hand in hand, dream-splashed everlasting.

For Bobby,11.29.11

Debra Lynn Lazar

Just a Few of the People I'm Thankful For...

2011-11-23T21:45:00.005-05:00

Me and my son, Adam, Breckenridge, CO, 11.20.11

My sister, Michelle, and I, Cabo San Lucas, Oct.'10

My sister, Laurie, and her wonderful husband, Peter, Oct. '11

My boyfriend, Bobby, and our cat, Mia, August, '11.

My friends, John and Heather, Caribbean Cruise, Nov. '05.


Laura Weber Martin, Carolyn Ward Parsons, Cindy Wilson, and I. Nov '10

Me and my son, Ethan, May '10.

Me and Bobby, Sanibel Island, FL, Oct. '10.

My friend, Joanne, and I. Phoenixville, PA, Oct. '09.

Dad and Mom, Cape May, NJ, August '11.

Me and Ken Parsons, Summer '10.

Me and Bobby, St. Patrick's Day Parade, March '11.

Mom, Laurie, David (front), Dad, Me, Sharon, and Devyn. Cabo, Oct. '10.

My niece, Devyn, Oct. '11.

My nephew, Nash, Oct. 11.

My friend, Julie, and I at BEA in NYC. May '09.

Adam and I, Lone Tree, CO, Thanksgiving '10.

Me and Ethan, Rehoboth Beach, DE, August '10.

Sharon, Ethan, my cousin, Eric, and Adam, August '11.

Back Row: Adam, Sharon, Laurie, Peter, Debbie, Ethan, Bobby. Middle Row: David, Dad, Mom, Michelle, Devyn, Travis. Front Row: Arissa, Jalen, Josea. - Laurie and Peter's Wedding, 10.1.11, Centennial, CO.

This Says it All or Treasure Your Diamonds

2011-11-16T14:13:00.001-05:00

That said, I'm going home to Denver to spend Thanksgiving with the people who will never leave me and will always be tied to my destiny.

Beneath is a poem I wrote recently to the one who left me behind. Scattered are phrases from songs I've written over the years.

Below that are lyrics to a song I wrote to my family when I first moved to California to follow my dreams. I've posted it before, but it remains one of the most relevant songs I've ever written.

What have I learned over time? Diamonds (especially in people form) are precious. Treasure them every moment of every day. Never take them for granted. Never leave without kissing them goodbye. Always let them know how deeply you care.

DIAMONDS II (Random as the Rain)
The birds they circle overhead, a dance they cannot fight
Little children in the sandbox play with sheer delight
A plane climbs high and steals my mind, guides it through the night
Who am I to claim to know the answers that are right?

You colored me a love note on a paper cloth of white
I laughed and loved the dreams you offered, held them to me tight
I wore your diamond on my hand forever and again
Now it's in a heart-shaped box on tears that never end

Each of us is like a diamond, glaring in the light
Yet, blindfolds of our own design keep us in the night
Each of us is like a diamond, tainted, rare, and true
Striving to express our inner souls, our inner truths

Life takes turns we'd not imagined, choices strange are made
A shell game full of love and traitors, painful, aching shame
Our paths, they crisscross on and on, an ancient dance unnamed
One is here and one is out there, random as the rain

Do you still need me in your life? Do you see me on your mind?
I'm hoping that it won't be very long until the time
When pieces that have fallen, tossed as stones upon the ground
Will gather back together and the key to life is found

Each of us is like a diamond, unique and free and strange
Grasping onto something or someone to ease the pain
Each of us is like a diamond on a heart-shaped chain
Searching for that brightest light to lead us home again

J. C. Keys/D. L. Lazar - 9.5.10

DIAMONDS (Original)

I'm wondering, do you still need me in your lives?

And if you - if you ever see me on your minds

And I'm hoping it won't, won't be long - 'til the time

That I'll see you once again...

That I may be (may be, may be) with you again

And I love you

You know I care for you

And I miss you

You know I really (really, really) care for you

ooh ah, ooh ah...

Sometimes I feel a shiver inside

And I want you to know, yes I want you to know how much that I am trying

Could you ever, ever love me for me?

Only for me - oh, I'm asking of you...

(For me, for me and love, and love from you)

And I'm taking my mind to a simpler time

And I'm trying to find the love that I left far behind me...

Running back home where the snow sometimes falls -

Finding shelter in the arms of it all

And I'm knowing our ties won't be severed with time

That's a wonder, I'll treasure it like a diamond...

In my mind

You are my diamonds, I find

So, hold me closer to you, closer all the time

Know I do love you

Yes I love you

Said I love you all the time...

Words & Music by,

J.C.Keys/D.L. Lazar - 12.19.81

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!!!

SUBLIMINAL WEDNESDAY: Recap on The Month of Living Deliberately - I DID IT!

2011-11-09T09:00:00.005-05:00

I realize many of you didn't think I'd survive the Month of Living Deliberately, but I'm happy to report, I did. [Many? Hah! Try all.] Don't get me wrong, it wasn't easy, and I would recommend it ONLY to my worst enemies, [falsely insinuates you have friends] but I'm glad I did it. You know why? [No one cares.] Because I learned a few things:

1) I can control my addictions when I set my mind to it. [You put chocolate powder in your chai tea. Every. Single. Time.]

2) Just because you stop eating sweets doesn't mean you lose weight. [Damn straight. I've seen you naked in the mirror. ACK!]

3) Life is much better with chocolate and new shoes. [Seriously? YOU'RE BLOWING MY EFFING MIND! Now, I suppose you're going to to tell me the Pope is Catholic and Ann Coulter is a bitch.]

Granted, I knew #3 before I began my masochistic, 30-day journey, and I'm bordering on suicidal by #2. But learning #1 was worth the painful effort. [Nothing in this world is worth giving chocolate and shopping up for. Even newborn babies and turtles know that.]

Now that that nonsense is over with, I can, once again, get on with my life. [Yawn.] This means: finishing my current novel, becoming certified as a domestic violence counselor, working out, drinking enough soy-no-water-chai tea lattes (with two pumps of pumpkin) to get me into the Guinness Book of World Records, snuggling with my honey, and playing with my cats - sometimes, I'll admit - in my underwear. [Ew. TMI.] There is also the occasional guitar playing, Twitter and FB chats, and dancing in my living room to The Cure and Led Zeppelin when no one is watching, [Oh, so I'm "no one" now?]

Fascinating, right? [Is that a joke? Because, if it's not, the answer is Hell, No!]

Maybe not. However, the news I'm about to impart upon you is doggone captivating. [Only idiots use the words, "impart" and "doggone," especially in the same sentence.]

Wait for it....

[Too late. You've put everyone to sleep.]

I SURVIVED AN ENTIRE MONTH WITHOUT EATING CHOCOLATE!!!

[Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you're like a Chinese dinner that keeps repeating itself.]

I realize I've already stated that bordering-on-unbelievable fact, but it's so patently phenomenal I felt the need to repeat it yet again. No need to thank me but, if you must, you're welcome. [It's official. You're an idiot.]

And on that spellbinding note, I will eat a small, yet intensely satisfying Butterfinger and play with my cats (most likely, in my underwear).

[Ew. TMI. Wait, did she say, "a" Butterfinger, as in "one?" Yeah, right. And Rush Limbaugh is a skinny, drug-free, Rhodes Scholar.]

So tell me, my friends. Have you ever accomplished something you didn't think you could? I realize whatever it is couldn't in any way, shape, or form compare to my enormous feat, but I'd love to hear about it anyway.

[Anything, including staring at the wall or snoring, or even staring at the wall while snoring, would be infinitely more interesting than your "enormous feat." Hell, even your enormous feet would be more interesting than your enormous feat. BWAHAHAHAHA!!! Enormous feet! I made a joke! I'm hilarious!]

By the way, that Subliminal Message Dude thinks he's such the jokester, but we all know he's SO not funny, right?

[Wrong. And, by the way, only idiots use the words, "such the" and "jokester," especially in the same sentence. Oh, and one more thing... wait for it... BITE ME, BEYOTCH!]

Nanococoa (No Relation to Nanowrimo)

2011-10-26T11:56:00.000-04:00

Just popping in to let you know I haven't died of Nanococoa (medical term for: lack of chocolate - no relation to Nanowrimo). I also haven't lost any weight, which seems wickedly unfair. HOWEVER, I am exercising three times a week and, in the words of an old Chicago song, feeling stronger every day**.

I have not spent one red (or even copper) cent on clothing, make-up, jewelry, or (and this hurts to write) shoes. Not one.

I've got precisely 10 (long, arduous, chocolate-free) days to go, but who's counting? (I mean, besides me.) At that time, you will most likely find me lying cold and dirty on a park bench buried beneath Nordstrom bags and Hostess Cupcakes wrappers.

Until then, pray for me and keep me in your chocolate-covered Franco Sarto-filled thoughts.

I'll write again when this self-inflicted chocolate-shopping torture is over.

**Interesting fact: I actually was a young member of the audience when this show, "Chicago in The Rockies" was recorded in 1973!!!

The Month of Living Deliberately

2011-10-10T20:05:00.000-04:00

In honor of my commitment to better physical and financial health, rather than "The Year of Living Dangerously," I'll be participating in, "The Month of Living Deliberately."

Oxford American Dictionary defines "deliberate" as: 1) Done on purpose; intentional. 2) Careful and unhurried.

I hereby proclaim that for the following 30 days I will DELIBERATELY:

1) NOT eat ANY sweets. (Except for my boyfriend's birthday dinner. Really, people, I'm only human.)

2) NOT spend ANY money on CLOTHES!!! And, yes, that includes SHOES and JEWELRY. (Those of you who know me can pick yourselves up off the ground. Lying on the floor with your eyes bulging out of your heads while speaking in tongues is highly undignified.)

3) EXERCISE at least 30 minutes EVERY DAY! And by EVERY DAY I mean at least three times a week! (Death, or at least an uncomfortable splinter or bug bite, to all naysayers.)

My month-long goals are:

1) To lose five pounds.

2) To save $500.

3) To tone muscles I didn't know I had.

My four-month goals are:

(Why four months? Because in four months I'll be on a cruise. In the Caribbean. In a bikini. OMFG.)

1) To lose twelve pounds.

2) To save $2000.

3) To tone muscles I didn't know I had.

I began this treacherous countdown on Saturday, and am happy to report: "So far, so good." Well, except for the exercising part. That began tonight when I signed up at a local gym that is freakishly close to where I live. (Whose crazy idea was it to build a gym within walking distance of my house? OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!) My excuses not to exercise are flying faster than incomprehensible syllables from the mouth of Sarah Palin. (Yep, that fast.) However, I WILL PREVAIL! (Chances are slightly higher than winning every Powerball in every state for the rest of my life.)

I promise to post before the end of the month to let you know how I'm doing. Unless I fail miserably, in which case, I'll either a) lie like I did when I was five and stole bubble gum from Spanky's Corner Store (sorry, Mom and Dad, but I can no longer keep this evil secret to myself), or b) slither away into slimy obscurity like Octomom, Bernie Madoff, and [hopefully, someday soon...] Snooki.

Anyone care to come along for the ride?

Celebrate Good Times, COME ON!

2011-09-26T13:31:00.000-04:00

Today is my dear father's 75th birthday (my niece, Devyn, my dad, and me from last Thanksgiving).

This Wednesday is my wonderful brother-in-law, David's, 50th birthday (David and I in Cabo last October).

Saturday is my beautiful sister, Laurie's wedding (her and her soul mate, Peter).

I've flown across the country to be with them on these special occasions.

So, to all my lovely readers: I'm on vacation in Denver with my family through October 7th. After that, I promise I'll post again like a real blogger.

Until then, here's a great, big SMOOCH for each and every one of you!

(Feel the love, baby, feel the love.)

CENTURIES OF JUNE: Interview with Author, Keith Donohue

2011-09-12T12:19:00.001-04:00

My favorite book as a kid was THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH by Norton Juster. It's the tale of a young boy named, Milo, who gets bored and drives his toy car into a magic tollbooth. He is transported to a land called, The Kingdom of Wisdom, where he experiences many exciting adventures.

I've just finished reading the adult version of THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH (TPT).

CENTURIES OF JUNE is, without question, one of the most innovative books I've read in years, possibly since I was nine huddled beneath my covers with my circus flashlight reading TPT well into the night.

Here's my 5-star review on goodreads:

The Phantom Tollbooth for grown-ups. Keith Donohue gives us a fascinating tale covering centuries in this "hold on to your hat" novel that keeps us reading to the end to find out how Jack ended up on his bathroom floor in the middle of the night. Eloquent writing and delicious details keep the reader guessing to the very end. You won't be disappointed!

And here's a book review by Allan Walton, of the Pittsburgh Post Gazette.

First of all, let me introduce you to the author, Mr. Keith Donohue. (Did I mention he has a Ph.D. in English with a specialization in modern Irish literature?) Secondly, I urge each and every one of you to finish reading this post and immediately go HERE to purchase your own copy. I promise, you will not be disappointed.

After reading, I had the pleasure of questioning the brilliant author, Keith Donohue, about his very special book. Here's what he said:

Q. CENTURIES OF JUNEis a wild read, a cross between historical fiction and magical realism. How would you categorize your novel, and whatinspired this original story?

A. Thenovel is a kind of mash-up, and I’d be happy enough if people read it ashistorical fiction or magical realism or a black comedy or a murder mystery oran existential ghost story. Heck, I’m happy when people read at all.

Likewise,the inspiration for Centuries of June is a mash-up of ideas and images.I knew I wanted to write about American myths and came across the painting TheVirgin by Gustav Klimt—which depicts a group of naked women resting in aclot beneath these wild and colorful quilts. I began to think about what theirstories might be and how those tales might be interwoven with this speculationon time, memory, and the American story. In the actual writing, all sorts ofother notions shoehorn their way into the book—from Bachelard’s The Poeticsof Space to the stateroom scene in the Marx Brothers’ A Night at theOpera. The novel becomes a mosaic, like the patterns in the Klimt painting.

Q. Yournovel combines fantastical elements of literary classics from Charles Dickens’sA Christmas Carol to Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass toToni Morrison’s Beloved. Did you have these or other authors in mindwhen writing your novel? Who are your literary inspirations?

A. Sinceit is, in part, a novel about stories and storytellers, I always had someonelooking over my shoulder. The story of the Woman Who Married a Bear is drawnfrom a Native American folktale. The one about the shipwreck in Bermuda wasinspired by Shakespeare’s The Tempest, which was based on thetrue account of the shipwreck of the settlers bound for Jamestown. And so on.Samuel Beckett makes an appearance in the narrator’s story, and I was alsoinspired by Flann O’Brien, Haruki Murakami, Mikhail Bulgakov, Italo Calvino,Louise Erdrich, David Mitchell, and so many more.

Q. LikeAlice falling down the rabbit hole, you invite readers into a magical realmfrom the moment we first meet your protagonist reeling from a head injury, and youkeep us engrossed until the last page. Are you fascinated by subjects that include dreams, memory, andreincarnation, as it would seem from reading the book?

A. Dreamsand memory, for sure. And the idea of reincarnation poses a fascinatingquestion—what happens between lives? I’m interested in how time works andnotions of eternity. One of the key aspects of the book is the narrator’sstopped watch and how time seems to slow down on this particular June morning.The moment becomes more expansive, allowing in stories from the past fivehundred years, in much the same way as the characters jam into the tinybathroom.

Q. Yourfirst novel, Stolen Child, was a critical success, a fantasy involvingchangeling folklore. How would you compareand contrast that novel with your new one, since they both explore theboundaries between fantasy and reality?

A. Allof my novels have dealt with myth and mythmaking. Centuries of June usesarchetypal American stories—from Native American legends to the Wild West to asort of film noir New York of the late ’50s—to explore how such myths defineour sense of who we are. I’m not really interested in whether faeries or angelsexist or whether reincarnation is true (how would I know?), but in how folkloreand mythology re-enchant the everyday world and help us sense that other sideof reality that resides primarily in the mind.

Q. Your main character is visited by eightmemorable women who we first see tangled up in a bed. We soon learn that they have each livedthrough a different era in American history and have been hurt or exploited insome way. How did you imagine these vibrant characters and stay true to each oftheir voices so their stories would jump off the page? Do you have a favorite?

A. I love them all. And if I told you whichone was my favorite, the others would never forgive me. The women in the book sprang to life one byone as they told their stories, and the characters’ identities evolved throughthe particular voice and style of each one. What became interesting for me ishow each woman evolved in between the tales, when the narrator is making up thestory of how they all wound up together. After each woman gives up thespotlight, she relaxes a bit and has a little fun.

Q. Whatis your fascination with American history, and how did you select the timeperiods featured in your novel?

A. I’minterested in the story of history, the subjective part that historians createfrom the bits and pieces cobbled together to make something new. Roughlyspeaking, I tried to space the women out every seventy years or so over thepast five centuries. It led to some interesting decisions—for instance, I knewI wanted to write about slavery, and one could go directly to the climax of theissue in the Civil War or treat it in another way. Given the choice, I ended upin New Orleans during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century.

Thenovel bounds across the country as well—from Alaska to Massachusetts, from GoldRush San Francisco to steel-building Pittsburgh—allpart of an intricate design,a kind of crazy quilt of time and space that allows for the narrator to movearound, despite being trapped in the circumstances of the present moment. Herealizes early on that he cannot leave the house, and most of the action of thebook takes place in the cramped bathroom. It was a kind of self-imposedchallenge to restrict the stage upon which our actors trod.

Q. Yournovel conjures up vivid images of these women suddenly appearing bearingweapons, wearing colorful garb, and under unusual circumstances—sippingcocktails, toting a baby, and reading an oral history from a body tattoo. Howdid you imagine these outrageous scenes? Do you “see” your stories as youwrite?

A. Inthe writing of the scenes, the characters and images are very vivid in my imagination,and I try my best to convey those sensations. Like every child of the age ofmoving pictures, I tend to see the story unfold. Centuries of June openswith our narrator naked and alone on the bathroom floor, unable to move, in apool of his own blood, and he is wondering how such a strange thing happenedwhen he hears a cough from the general direction of the bathtub. A man,resembling at first the narrator’s deceased father, shows up. Once thathappens, anything goes. As the women enter the story one by one, they arecapable of the most extraordinary and outrageous things. They surprised me every time.

Q. Whatwould you say are the major themes of your novel? What fun literary devices didyou employ to make this story come to life?

A. Itis often said that when we die our life flashes before our eyes. What is thatlike? What would it be like if you had led more than one life? What happens inthe space between one life and the next? What do we remember or forget eachtime around?

Thestory is a collage of styles—folklore, a shipwreck account, archives ofhistorical documents, oral histories, the western, silent film, hard-boiledmurder mystery, erotic fantasy, dreams, and allusions. It has a little bit ofeverything from baseball to vaudeville.

Q. Doesyour protagonist find resolution and/or redemption in the end? Will readersunravel the central mysteries?

A. Ihope so! It is a pretty simple story in the end, about how time suddenly stopsand then starts all over again.

Q. Howdoes your novel’s title inform the story?

A. I came across the phrase “Centuries ofJune” at a Joseph Cornell exhibit at the Smithsonian a couple of years ago. Heused it as the title for a short silent film about a summer’s day, and thephrase itself is from a poem by Emily Dickinson, which goes like this:

There is a Zonewhose even Years
No Solstice interrupt—
Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon
Whose perfect Seasons wait—

Whose Summer set inSummer, till
The Centuries of June
And Centuries of August cease
And Consciousness—is Noon.

While I’m not entirely sure what Emily meant,I liked the notion of that perpetual Noon, when time has stopped for a moment,and we might escape its grasp.

Thank you, Keith, for taking the time give us some insights into your brilliant novel. I wish you nothing but the best of luck, and pray to the writing gods that I may someday pen a piece of work as lasting and innovative as this.

Emotional Rainbows

2011-09-06T12:52:00.001-04:00

A new season is approaching, one filled with cinnamon teas, vibrant colors, cozy blankets, homemade soups, and pumpkins.

Autumn is a time for change - a time to leave the carefree playfulness of summer behind and embrace the introspective beauty of fall. Autumn is a time where deep greens transform into bright reds, and shorts and t-shirts become jeans and sweaters. Autumn is a time of transition.

I've been going through a period of transition for quite a while now. Some days have been graced with hope and love and laughter and dreams. Others have been weighted down with sadness, sorrow, loss, and regret. I suppose that's how life works. Throughout our days, we experience the breathtaking highs and harrowing lows of our own emotional rainbows.

This fall I'm looking forward to hot chocolate topped with whipped cream by the fireplace, long walks hand-in-hand in the park, watching the dazzling leaves as they burst from greens to reds to oranges to yellows, and the pure joy on the faces of children as they trick or treat on Halloween.

What I'm most looking forward to this fall is cuddling with my loved ones and letting go of a past I treasure, but no longer exists.

What are you looking forward to this fall?

Leave Your Ghosts in the Dust

2011-08-31T09:00:00.000-04:00

***This is a post I wrote earlier this year. I felt the need to, once again, let this message fill the sacred space on my blog. I hope these words move and inspire you. I hope they make your burden a little easier to bear.

Along with the fluctuating temperatures and my weight, my moods have been up and down, high and low, euphoric and devastating.

Has my life always been this way and I somehow hadn't noticed? Or, has the emotional roller coaster I've been hanging onto for dear life over the past few years blurred my sense of reality? I'm not sure, but I do know life has been atypically bumpy, and it's making me dizzy.

Lately, I find myself spending an inordinate amount of time questioning the path my life has taken and wondering at what point I will feel whole and complete again. At times, bitterness, anger, and intense sadness cloud my insanely beautiful life. The frustrating part is knowing I have the power to change my thoughts, but not doing it every time the bad ones invade.

This is one of the great mysteries of being human: knowing we have powers, yet not utilizing them to our best ability. Why do we do this? Who knows. Maybe it's too hard to face the possibility of our absolute magnificence.

Thankfully, I'm an optimist at heart, so it doesn't usually take too long to grapple my way out of my self-imposed dungeon. I remember the importance of placing one foot in front of the other, and, by doing that, I realize there are many things to learn from the crescendos and decrescendos of my ever-changing emotions.

For example:

1) Experiencing the ups and downs of life is part of the human condition. It's "normal."

2) Moving forward after a major breakdown can be both euphoric and depressing; often within the same day or even the same hour. Don't just deal with the craziness of your emotions; revel in them. They prove you're alive. Free. Changing. Growing.

3) The people who stand by you during the insanity of a major life change are golden/priceless/irreplaceable/saint-like. Thank them often. Let them know how special they are. Buy them wine and chocolate.

4) It takes time to reprogram your vision of how you believed your life would be. The sooner you're able to leave your ghosts in the dust, the sooner you'll be able to create a richer life with new relationships, goals, and dreams.

5) Be appreciative of every minute of every day. Remember, the stronger the challenge, the stronger you'll be once you get through it.

6) Trust yourself. Love yourself. Be your best friend.

Moving on often entails experiencing excruciating feelings of sadness, abandonment, jealousy, and anger. But dealing with difficult emotions has its rewards, like letting you know how deeply you can feel; how joyously you can dream; how passionately you can love.

Don't let the roller coaster slam you against an emotional wall. Ride it until it slows and gently lets you off in a quieter place; a more peaceful place; a place where you can get your bearings; a place where you can begin, once again, to create something beautiful, lasting, and unimaginable.

Trust yourself. Place one foot in front of the other. Leave your ghosts in the dust.

Have you had a period of emotional turbulence you thought you couldn't get through? If so, how did you overcome it?

This May Be "The One!"

2011-08-10T08:30:00.016-04:00

I'm in the midst of writing a new book, and I've been laughing. A lot. If truth be told, I've been shamelessly cracking myself up. I dare say that as far as my women's fiction writing is concerned, this may be "The One!"

At this stage of the writing game (a smidgen shy of the halfway point), the book is brilliant. I'm writing prose that will move readers to tears, incite unbridled laughter, and cause intense personal transformations. Said another way, I'm handcrafting words like beer makers in an Oregon microbrewery.

Of course, as any writer worthy of the title knows, the first half is the easiest. Precisely two-thirds of the way through is where we want to slit our muse's throat and resort to more mindless occupations, like flying jet planes or performing brain surgery.

Thankfully for me (and, especially, my loved ones), I'm at that cozy, delusional place we writers lust after; the place where we know we're writing something brilliant, lasting, that will win us awards, be envied by all, and afford us a mansion in the Hamptons.

I adore this place and plan to luxuriate in it for at least 10,000 more words. At that point, I may ask said loved ones to flush my sleeping pills, dispose of sharp objects, and unplug both large and small electrical appliances.

Until then, however, I FREAKING ROCK!

Now, who would like the privilege to pass me - the next Stephen King, Bill Shakespeare, Kate Atkinson, Chelsea Handler, and Erma Bombeck combined - my slippers, give me a hot stone massage, and feed me wine and chocolates?

(And, please, people, no fighting. Remember, it's all a basket of kittens until someone gets hurt.)

Subliminal Tuesday: WRITING BREAK! [Not!]

2011-08-02T11:30:00.001-04:00

My parents are in town visiting me in my new place, and I couldn't be happier! [Nervous as hell. Will they love it? Hate it? Will they crave a different brand of coffee than the one I went to three stores to buy especially for them? Will they expect me to get up before 9AM to hunt down said coffee?] Their visit means, WRITING BREAK!

Of course, the minute I decided this, was the same minute I got bombarded with fascinating ideas for my current wip. Isn't my muse AWESOME? [Masochistic lunatic.] As a conscientious writer, I'll make sure my 'idea notebook' is with me at all times so as not to miss a single nugget [golden, not chicken-fried] from my brilliant muse whenever she sees fit. [Like while I'm on a roller coaster ride or being pulled over by one of Philadelphia's finest for speeding on Route 422]. Gosh, I love my thoughtful muse! [Cruel, slave-driving maniac.]

So, dear friends, I'll be back after the visit from my lovely parents [who, as I write this, are requesting a different brand of coffee] refreshed and ready to spread my wisdom and joy to the masses. [My muse forced me at gunpoint to write that last bit.]

Keep it classy, y'all!

Keeping Things Fresh & New

2011-07-24T20:39:00.044-04:00

How do you keep things fresh and new? Whether it's your writing, relationships, "look" (wardrobe, hair, etc), dreams, or goals, what do you do to make life new, different, meaningful, and interesting?

Here's "What's New" in my world:

House

Nephew (Nash is beyond amazing, though, I can't take credit for his immense awesomeness!)

Boyfriend (Ditto for the boyfriend!)

Kitten (Ladies and Gentlemen, meet MIA!!!)

Haircut

WIP

Garden

Interior Design Business

For me, keeping things fresh also means planning trips, concerts, special dinners, starting new classes, etc.

So, my friends, what about you? What's new in your world? What do you do/plan/look forward to/treasure that keeps things fresh in your life?

The Search for Happiness

2011-07-11T18:20:00.001-04:00

"There is nothing more beautiful, powerful, and free than the person who chooses to love themself." Christine Arylo, 40-Day Summer of Love and Miracles.

I am currently participating in a 40-day "Fear Cleansing" with the crazy, awesome, spirit junkie, GABRIELLE BERNSTEIN and her spiritual running buddy, CHRISTINE ARYLO. Through this process, I've realized I'm not so much afraid in life, as I am resigned, sad, bitter, and jealous, with an ugly dash of angry thrown in for "good" (aka,"self-serving") measure.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy most of the time. But there are those other times when I allow my Mean Girl or Sad Girl or Bitter Girl or, my personal favorite, Poor Me Girl to creep in and wreak emotional havoc. I hate when that happens. And what's worse is I know I have total control over it. The first thought isn't in your control. Fortunately (or unfortunately!), the ones that follow are. Admitting I have total control over my feelings proves that I do - on some level - at certain points throughout my day - CHOOSE to be miserable.

But, why? Why on earth would I do a crazy thing like that? Why on earth do we do crazy things like that? It's simple. Feeling sorry for ourselves allows us to be right and make others wrong. It allows us to not take action/be lazy (I don't know about you, but when I'm down, I get VERY tired). It gives us a reason to complain, feel bitter, angry, and most importantly, to put the blame for our sorrow/anger/jealousy/resentment, etc. on someone else's head.

I watched the interview with Diane Sawyer and Jaycee Dugard last night. Jaycee was kidnapped by a deranged sex offender and his equally twisted wife when she was only 11 years old. She was held captive for 18 years, and had two children fathered by her captor. During the interview, Jaycee smiled a lot. She laughed a lot. She seemed genuinely happy. I'm inspired by her for surviving and thriving, and am deeply grateful for the HUGE lesson she taught: It's not what "happens to us," it's what we "make it mean." If she can be happy after losing her entire childhood and so much more at the hands of a madman, what's my excuse for not doing cartwheels every five minutes? (Besides the fact I might kill myself if I tried!) My sad story is a walk with the angels compared to Jaycee's.

Of course, I "know" this. I've participated in the transformational work of The Landmark Forum, I've read Byron Katie, Deepak Chopra, Eckhart Tolle, and many others who have great lessons to teach.

For me, it's a matter of being present to and grateful for the magnificence of my life and the people in it. In order to remind myself of my many gifts, I get Weekly Happiness Assignments from the brilliant, generous, and deeply beautiful Sharon Chumash (I highly recommend you sign up for these magnificent - and free! - gems) and daily Miracle Messages from Gabby and Christine from the 40-Day Fear Cleanse. I'm getting back into the habit of meditating, stretching, and yoga, which I've found to be a profound way to become present to the wonder of my existence. In addition, I'm committed to performing transformational acts of forgiveness, kindness, and self-love.

In that vein, I want each of you reading this to know your heart touches mine. For that, I am deeply grateful.

What about you? What do you do to stay focused on the enormous gift that is your life? And, how do you give your Mean Girl/Guy a proper flogging?

Precious New Beginnings

2011-06-27T09:27:00.000-04:00

Tonight I'm heading to Denver to meet my new nephew, Nash, and be with his big sister, Devyn and other members of my amazing family. I'll also be seeing great friends, some of whom I haven't seen in many moons. Instead of today being a sad day for me, today is filled with family, love, possibility, and forward movement.

Thanks to all of you who have lifted me up and helped me move through these past fourteen months. Small or big, silent or spoken, I will never stop appreciating your support.

Social Media's Raging Storm: Follower Gathering

2011-06-20T09:00:00.052-04:00

Lately, I've been curious about the phenomenon of gathering followers on social media outlets like Twitter, Facebook, and blogs. I've noticed certain people - often times new writers with their first or second book out - gathering followers like fisherman catch tuna in a net; as if the numbers alone will insure greater book sales.

Daisy Whitney, a marketing guru and dear writer-friend, wrote an interesting post about social media recently. She pointed out happiness comes from within, not without, and that giving yourself a break from social media's raging storm (my words, not hers) can be an extremely healthy undertaking. Her main point being, "Don't Stalk Yourself!"

Please understand, my background is in marketing. In my early days, I managed and promoted my rock band, and later I worked in marketing for several architectural and engineering firms. That said, I wonder if we've taken this "follower gathering" (FG) thing too far.

On Twitter, I only follow someone back if I think their tweets are interesting, funny, inspiring, or all of the above. I do not simply follow back in hopes their followers will soon follow me. I mainly stick to people in the literary world, but also include some musical and political folks. On Facebook, I operate the same way. I only friend people who I know and/or interest me in some way. I imagine, once I have a book deal, I'll be encouraged to increase my FG, though it may seem a bit disingenuous; following people for the sole purpose of increasing book sales.

There is nothing inherently wrong with this - it's the foundation of marketing. The more people who know about your product, the more product you'll sell. That said, I'm not sure why it irks me when I see: So-and-So now has 30,000 new friends! (I'm from New York, therefore I exaggerate.) Of course, there's the natural twinge of jealousy:

Hey, wait, she's got more followers than I do! WAH, WAH, SHE'S MORE POPULAR THAN ME!!!

What am I not doing that he's doing?

Should I change my profile pic?

What does he know/have that I don't know/have?

Why does she have to be prettier (more successful, more interesting, more hooked up with the 'right' people, more famous, younger...) than me?

BLAH, BLAH, BLAH...

(We humans are a real treat, aren't we?)

But, more than that, it bothers me because I love the personal schmoozing factor of social media outlets. I hate to think that could be obliterated by the need to use these outlets strictly as marketing tools. Plenty of people advise writers to watch every word they say on social media outlets in order not to alienate possible readers. I say, "Bah, Humbug!" If some people don't like my political views or sense of humor, so be it. Delving into the thoughts and lives of the artists I love makes me love them more. The more open they are about who they are and what they believe in, the better.

I hope my attraction to social media as a means of getting to know interesting people, having people make me laugh, making people laugh, being inspired, inspiring others, and sharing music and political views, etc. doesn't fade as my number of followers grows. Why? Because I'm human and have an ego and love when my follower numbers rise. (There, I said it!)

Curious to hear your thoughts on this.

Feel free to share this on Twitter, FB, your blog, YouTube, Linkedin, etc. (Bwahaha!!!)

The 3 W's: Writing While Waiting

2011-06-13T09:04:00.020-04:00

Writing While Waiting is the one and only thing a writer should do. I mean, besides painting, sculpting, writing songs, or doing anything else creative that calls your soul into being in the world.

What I have to say next may come as a shock to some: I have amicably parted ways with my agent. She's awesome. Keep querying her. You won't be sorry. That said, things just weren't working out for us. So, I'm back in the saddle, aka: querying game, again.

I'm querying my YA novel while immersed in a women's fiction book I feel more connected to than anything I've ever written. I know it's not the PC thing to do to admit such things, but guess what? I don't care. I'm more concerned with and committed to being authentic in my life than I am with what I "should" or "shouldn't" say on my blog.

When I first started this blog in September of 2008, I promised myself one thing: THIS WOULD NEVER SOLELY BE A PLACE FOR "LOOKING GOOD." Instead, it would be a place to express my artistic and personal lives simultaneously and honestly. I've never regretted this choice.

One thing I'm clear about, and have been clear about from a young age, is this: life is fleeting. The second song I ever wrote was called, "Time Glides By." I was 16, but knew deep down this was true. Now, I'm (much) older and have discovered that (much) younger version of me was right. Life is short. Live it to the fullest.

So, I'm Writing While Waiting to hear back from a select few unbelievably amazing agents. And, if my YA novel isn't the one to gain me new representation, I have little doubt the novel I'm working on will. Over confident? Maybe. But, it's how I feel deep down in my gut.

When you pour your soul onto the page in a deep and genuine way, your life and the lives of others transform. This is the reason I write - to cause transformation in the world - to share what it is to be human - to embrace my life and the lives of others - to generate authenticity within myself and those around me. The possibility of doing this is bigger than the cosmos, brighter than the sun, deeper than the ocean, and sweeter than a newborn (well, maybe not sweeter than a newborn - this is me and my niece, Devyn, in October of 2009 - what could be sweeter than a precious new baby?). The possibility of creating something that touches others is the reason we are alive. It is an honor and a privilege and the "job" of all artists.

So, my friends, share yourselves fully, beautifully, and honestly. In the end, it's all that matters.

Breaking Through

2011-05-31T20:13:00.000-04:00

And... I'm in! Yes, it's true. I live in a new place. A place with beautiful hardwood floors, a tumbled marble back splash, brilliant artwork, and glorious views of nature. I also have a new place to write. A place I call my "study." A place where, today, I added nearly 1400 words to my wip.

What makes a new house a home? Love. Plain and simple. And, I've got that, too. I'm lucky and grateful and can barely express my thanks to those who fill my life with love. From breakdowns, come breakthroughs. The trick is letting the breakthroughs break through.

Here are a few pics of my humble new abode. Grab a drink, put your feet up, and make yourself at home. Life is short. Live it.

Dream. Love. Dance. Create. Rejoice. Cry. Honor. Adore. Give. Receive. Heal. Be Grateful. Repeat...

Dining Room

Living Room

Study

Kitchen

Front Entryway

Backyard

Patio

Master Bedroom

This is the Week...

2011-05-16T10:00:00.000-04:00

This is the week - the week I move out of the place I've called "home" - the week I move into my own, beautiful, new place - the week I step gracefully and gratefully from one life into another.

I never thought such a time would come. I thought I'd be married "forever." But, life isn't always fair; it doesn't always go as planned.

Along this sometimes rocky journey I've learned a lot. I've learned:

Who my real friends are;
Whom I can trust;
My family is my greatest treasure;
I can live on my own and not make a complete mess of things;
I can write as many drafts of a story as it takes to get it to where it needs to be;
My boyfriend is my love and my rock;
My children are amazing beyond my wildest dreams;
I am my own best friend;
It's okay to ask for help.

For these lessons, I'm deeply grateful. To those who helped me climb out of the darkness and back into the light, I'm forever in your debt.

This is the week - the week I take back control - the week I step forward into the rest of my life.

Each of us is like a diamond, glaring in the light
Yet, blindfolds of our own design keep us in the night
Each of us is like a diamond, tainted, rare, and true
Striving to express our inner souls, our inner truths

Life takes turns we'd not imagined, choices strange are made
A shell game full of love and traitors, painful, aching shame
Our paths, they crisscross on and on, an ancient dance unnamed
One is here and one is out there, random as the rain
Diamonds II (Random as the Rain) by Debra Lynn Lazar, 9.15.2010

Being at Peace

2011-05-02T12:49:00.000-04:00

Making up your mind feels good. After a small snag in the home-buying saga, I've decided to stick with Plan A - the townhome. I don't need a big yard or a pool. Everything I want and need is in the beautiful home I've selected floors, cabinets, granite, and paint colors for.

Settlement/closing date is only two weeks away, so this decision is timely, to say the least. The choice is made, but I'm still resisting. I haven't packed a thing. The thought of packing seems overwhelming. That said, I'm not worried. One way or another, me and my stuff will soon be residing in a different locale; one that holds only pure possibility.

This week has been transformational in several ways. First, the house. Then, my writing. Along with packing, I'd been stuck with my writing. I realized I have a story around it that goes like this: When I'm writing, the world is perfect. I have meaning in my life and a reason to get up in the morning. When I'm not writing, I feel worthless and I all I want to do is sleep. I know this sounds overly dramatic, but it's "true" for me. (In other words, it's what I choose to believe.)

Over these past few days, a dear friend and beta reader turned the creative light back on for me (I'd apparently misplaced the switch), and I'm, once again, forging ahead with my women's fiction novel and finishing up edits on my YA book. Now, my only problem is,that I have to sleep!

Welcome back, muse. I love you. I love my life. It feels good to be at peace.

What do you do when you're "stuck?" Do you torture yourself? Tell yourself you're not worthwhile? Do you sleep, eat, drink, or find some other way to hide from the fact you're not doing what your passionate about? Or, is it okay for you - just part of the process? Spill, people, spill. Your words of wisdom are highly in demand.

Picture above I took in Rehoboth Beach last summer.

Cold Feet or I'm Feeling a bit Verklempt

2011-04-25T10:36:00.002-04:00

Let me start by saying, I've loved every place I've ever lived. I also love decorating. I get an obscene amount of joy out of creating the perfect blend of colors, fabrics, and accessories that transform a house into a home. Like they say, "Home is where the heart is." It's the cradle where your family is rocked.

Have you ever made a big decision involving a huge adjustment in your life and then, shortly before the shift was about to take place, changed your mind? Well, maybe not completely changed your mind, but seriously doubted your decision? On your wedding day this is called, "cold feet." In the arena of buying a home, I'm not sure what it's called but, whatever it is, I've got it. Bad.

As some of you know, I've been in the process of moving forward with my life after the end of a long-term marriage. Part of that process has involved me finding my own place. After much house-hunting, I decided to have a townhome built not far from my current home (the dream house my soon-to-be-ex and I worked our whole lives for). And it's beautiful. Like seriously beautiful. It's got three bedrooms, two full and two half-baths, a finished basement, a brand new state-of-the-art kitchen, and a gas fireplace; you know, the kind where you push a button on a remote and the fire goes on and off? No heavy logs. No messy ashes. No putting the fire out before you go to sleep. Clean and easy. Pretty cool, huh?

So, what's wrong, you ask? As petty as this may sound, this beautiful townhome has no yard. That is, unless you call a 10' x 20' paver patio a "yard." And, to make matters worse, it's in the middle of a building with five other homeowners. I know this sounds snobby and spoiled, but I currently live in a McMansion with over an acre of land. I haven't shared a building with other people since I was 20 and, to be honest, I like it that way. That said, I've been house-hunting. Again. Yes, you read that right. And did I mention the settlement/closing date on my townhouse is just over three weeks away?

Why am I looking at houses again? Because a single family home is better than a townhouse, right? Because the smell of wood burning in a fireplace is part of what makes a house a home. Because I'm confused and not sure where to start this next major chapter in my life.

Oh, yeah, and one more thing. This next home will be the first place I'll live without my children since they were born.

Don't get me wrong: I'm aware my life is ridiculously amazing. I'm healthy and generally happy. I have an incredible boyfriend, precious family and friends, and enough money to get by for a while. So, what the hell's wrong with me? Why am I second-guessing things? Am I going crazy? No. This is simply what divorce does to you. It makes you nuts; makes you doubt yourself; makes you wonder if you can trust yourself; makes you wonder if you're making the right decisions; makes you wonder if you could or should have done things differently. It causes cold feet, not only about home-buying, but about every major part of life.

I'm somewhat nervous putting this out there for the world to see, but I've always meant for this blog to be about more than my writing journey. Thankfully, for me, the fear of people's judgments lessens as I get older, but still...

So, there you have it. I've got cold house-buying feet, plain and simple. Nothing more, nothing less, right? This is not at all like buttah. In fact, I'm feeling a bit verklempt. To continue with Linda Richman-speak (played by the uber-talented Mike Myers) on SNL's, Coffee Talk, "House buying, like divorce, is neither a walk in the park nor the end of the world as we know it. Discuss."

How I Got My Agent (Revisited)

2011-04-11T23:32:00.003-04:00

I had the distinct pleasure of participating in the #WritersRoad chat last night on Twitter and was reminded how much writers looking for representation are inspired by "agent-finding" stories. So, in light of that, here is the link to my blog post from November 17, 2009 about how I "got" my agent.

Once again, I hope you enjoy the post and are inspired to continue to follow your dreams.

Bring Out Yer Dead! (It's Simply a Matter of Choice)

2011-04-04T10:45:00.003-04:00

"I dont' want to go on the cart!"
"Oh, don't be such a baby."

Monty Python & The Holy Grail. What brilliant comedy.

Breathing life back into something you thought was dead isn't easy. Or, is it? I brought out my dead last night and realized resuscitation is simply a matter of choice.

The first guitar I ever owned, a Yamaha six-string, had been sitting in the corner of my music studio gathering dust for years. Ignored as newer, more exciting (read: expensive) guitars took its' place, it sat obediently in it's stand waiting for the moment to, once again, shine.

This instrument was my first love; the one I wrote my first songs on and, as corny as it sounds, I consider her to be a dear, old friend. I lovingly changed the strings, cleaned the frets, and polished the gorgeous wood body. Strumming the new strings, my old friend sounded impossibly beautiful. Like magic, I watched her come back to life.

"Can I go back and take along the wisdom that is mine?"

(Jamie C. Keys, 1979 "The Reason for the Rhyme")

Playing songs written in what seems like another lifetime can be strange. When I wrote them, there was nothing but possibility ahead. I was young, married to my Prince Charming, and had big, musical dreams. Playing these songs now is bittersweet, for I know how the stories ended. Although, I accomplished a lot with my music, I didn't become the rock princess I imagined and, like Humpty Dumpty, all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put my fairy-tale marriage back together again.

Spring is supposed to be the window to new beginnings, of bringing the dead or sleeping back to life. But, last year, it was a turbulent time: a time when tear-shaped rain pummeled down in harsh torrents, leaving me feeling hollowed out, frightened, and desperately sad.

Time heals (or at least bandages) all, and this year trees are sprouting glorious green buds, birds are chirping their sweet songs, and precious possibilities, like soft raindrops, are sprinkling softly upon me.

While playing guitar, I realized something: I still have the opportunity to fill my life with great love and big dreams. Part of the majesty of being human is having the transformative power to breathe life back into dreams we thought were dead and buried. It's simply a matter of choice.

So, join me in bringing out yer dead! At this time of new beginnings, what will you transform in order to bring more joy to your life? What dusty dreams can you breathe life back into?

FYI: The picture of me was taken four years ago at a photo shoot in Philly.

Changing Teams

2011-03-28T09:30:00.016-04:00

Changing teams is something I've considered for a long time, even before my husband and I split. [TMI] I'd ponder what it would be like to run my hands over a totally different, yet strangely familiar body; to take the time to know the inner workings of a similar mind; to spend days getting to know each other, touching each other, and trying to see what the younger generation takes for granted: that you don't have to be opposites to attract.

What the hell, it's 2011. People have let their guards down. It happen all the time. It's no longer taboo. You see it everywhere, right? Like on TV, in cafes, on airplanes, and, of course, in the privacy of bedrooms. I've always thought it looked sexy and admit I've been tempted, but it was never the right time or place and, to be honest, I wasn't sure if it was for me. Plus, what would my family think? My friends, neighbors, employer? [You work for yourself, you dumbass.]

Eff them. I'm not getting any younger, so I figured, what the heck! I may as well give it a shot. Life's too short to miss out on "true love" or to worry about what others think. Therefore, I've thrown caution to the wind and jumped on this new and exciting bandwagon. That's right, my friends, I've officially changed teams! [BFD. I'd rather watch water boil.]

My new girlfriend's smoking hot, unbearably sexy, and loves my every touch and caress. I can barely stand to leave her alone for a minute. In fact, she's so tantalizing, my boyfriend's not even jealous. He says he doesn't mind as long as he can get it on a bit of that spicy two-on-one action from time to time, and, who am I to deny him such a "Bucket List" opportunity? [If you left him alone with your new squeeze, his experience would be far more memorable.]

I'm sure, by now, you're dying to see a picture of the object of my affection. I've asked her if I could post a photo, but unlike Charlie Sheen or Lindsay Lohan, she's not an attention whore. She thinks that's "Losing!" not "Winning!" However, she acquiesced when I told her I'd let her pose naked. (She's a free spirit; hates wearing clothes.) Oh, and did I mention she's quite a bit younger than me? [Cradle robber.] I figured if guys can go after sweet, young things, why can't I? [You know you can do jail time for that, right?]

So, ladies and gentlemen, here she is... My latest piece of glorious arse; the love of my life; a gal who loves doing it in positions I didn't even know existed:

So, what do you think? Pretty awesome, right? Oh, wait, sorry, I posted the wrong picture. That's me about three months ago. [BWAHAHAHAHA!]

Hold on, I promise it'll be worth your wait. My real new squeeze is WAY hotter than Ms. Brown Bikini over there.

Okay, folks, here she is in all her naked glory! Ms Sophia Mariella Julietta MacBook Pro!!!!! (She's a full-figured 13 inches, but that's alright. Heck, my last love had nearly 15 inches, and I had no problems handling that!)

I know, gorgeous, right? And, trust me when I tell you, the things she can do would make a sailor blush. I can barely wait to explore her ins and outs, so to speak, so that we can give each other the fullest amounts of pleasure known to mankind. [Your "girlfriend" is a freaking computer? WHAT a let down, not that I'm surprised. I mean, what gorgeous lipstick lesbian would be lame enough to be with you?]

If you'll excuse me, it's getting a bit warm in here. I think I need a quickie with the new object of my affection. And, although I gave up smoking years ago, I just may need a cigarette after our little tryst...

What about you? Have you changed teams? Are you glad you did it? Tell me all the juicy details if you dare.

Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself...

2011-03-21T09:53:00.001-04:00

First of all, my sincere thanks to everyone who counted themselves in to help me donate to the tsunami disaster in Japan. In all, 22 people stepped up to the plate and were counted in. Therefore, I'll be donating an additional $110 to the relief efforts. Thank you all so much, and to the people of Japan: may you continue to heal physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

Secondly, I've done my best to be honest about the dissolution of my marriage. I've shared the heartbreak, anger, doubts, jealousy, and deep sadness I've experienced throughout these past eleven months. In so many ways, time truly heals all. The process has been slow and painful, but I now feel stronger, more clear-eyed, and more joyful than ever.

Now I'm Ready to Start
I would rather be wrong
Than live in the shadows of your song
My mind is open wide
And now I'm ready to start
from Ready to Start by Arcade Fire

Due to this situation, one of the issues I've had to address is my name.

Question: What's in a name?

Answer: A lot.

Your name is deeply tied to your identity. In many ways, it's how you know yourself and how others know you.

In the case of divorce, do you keep your ex's last name, and if so, why? For the sake of the kids? Because it's easier? Because you're used to it? For a writer, your name takes on an additional meaning since it's also your brand. Brands are important for marketing purposes. If you're already published, changing your name is a far trickier endeavor. I'm lucky in that I can make this change before I sell billions and billions of books.

To find a solution to the name game, I considered three possibilities:

1) Keep my ex's last name. (A name I've used for longer than I care to admit.)

2) Use my maiden name. (A name I haven't used in longer than I care to admit.)

3) Create a pen name. (I've done this with my music. It's fun, but rather confusing. I kind of felt like Sybil.)

AND THE WINNER IS...!
After much thought on this subject, I've decided to use my maiden name. This has been a difficult decision, but one I feel is the best choice under the circumstances.

So, ladies and gentleman, please allow me to introduce myself:

I am... DEBRA LYNN LAZAR!

So, what do you think? And, how about you? Have you ever had to deal with a name change? If so, how did it go?

In Honor of the People of Japan: COUNT ME IN! - An Invitation to Contribute

2011-03-14T10:52:00.020-04:00

This week, I'm dedicating my blog to the people of Japan. The inconceivable pain and devastation they are experiencing individually, within families, communities, and as a country is beyond my wildest comprehension.

Please take a few moments today, this week, and until Japan is restored to its' glorious, vibrant self to donate, say a prayer, meditate, or do whatever it is you feel comfortable doing to forward the healing process for our global neighbors.

If you'd like to make a monetary donation, here are a few links I've found:

Red Cross

Center for International Disaster Information

Digital Ways to Donate to Japan Disaster Relief (via FB, Twitter, Apple, Google, Zynga)

Apple iTunes

Author Maureen Johnson's SHELTERBOX

Even Lady Gaga has designed a bracelet and ALL PROCEEDS will go directly to Japan relief efforts.

HERE'S ANOTHER QUICK AND EASY WAY TO HELP:
Just write: COUNT ME IN! in the Comment Section.

To honor my commitment to contribute as much as I can towards relief efforts in Japan, I will make a $5 contribution for every "COUNT ME IN!" comment I receive, here on my blog, my FB page, and/or on my Twitter page through this Sunday, 3/20. I invite all of you in the Social Media Communities to join me in this effort. Together, we can make a difference.

Namaste to all.

Falling In Love Again...

2011-03-06T22:58:00.023-05:00

Weak knees, shortness of breath, heart pounding, palms sweating, unable to concentrate... Must be love, and I'm falling hard and fast.

As opposed to tall, dark, and handsome, the object of my affection is short, light, and nondescript. It's unpredictable, mysterious, and intriguing; frustrating yet invigorating, peaceful yet thrilling. It's convoluted and clear-eyed, and it's sweeping me off my feet.

So, who's this secret lover who has rocked my world and made me feel like a teenager again? You guessed it. I've fallen in love with my new WIP.

Although my previous paramour - the one AA is reviewing - is YA, my new lover is women's fiction. Older, wiser, more mature, and better in bed.

In order for women's fiction to be captivating, a beguiling heroine is mandatory. It's here I feel I've struck the jackpot. What's so striking about my new leading lady? Her dark hair, brown eyes, and alluring body, of course, but mostly her mind. She's kind, sarcastic, wounded, frail, funny, and vulnerable. She's on a journey of self-discovery; of redefining who she is and what her life's about. I have a feeling she'll stick it to the characters in her story who've wronged her, and, really, what's more attractive than a powerful, sexy woman beating the crap out of past demons? (I mean, besides Ashton Kutcher with his shirt partially unbuttoned?)

Where was I? Oh, yes. Writing is magical. There's no rhyme or reason to where the ideas come from. When we writers sit down at the computer each day, we have no idea what, if anything, will appear on the intimidating blank page. And, yet, we somehow know if we give ourselves over to the power of our art - and not try to "understand" or "force" it - magic happens.

Right now, for me the magic is one of the greatest in the world: I've fallen in love again. Life imitates art imitates life imitates art...

In the wise words of Lenny Kravitz, "Let love rule."

So, tell me: who/what are you in love with these days? What's your favorite thing about being/falling in love?

SUBLIMINAL MONDAY: Stevie Nicks is Stalking Me (Again)

2011-02-22T09:50:00.032-05:00

Stevie Nicks visited me in my dream last night. Again. It's kind of annoying, actually. I've considered contacting the authorities to report a stalker, but fear they'd take her word over mine. [Good call.]

I've had numerous dreams involving Stevie over the past few years. [Few? You call more than 30 "few?"] We're usually singing together and, I humbly confess, my vocal prowess is way better than hers. [Oh, look! A pink elephant is flying across the room! Whee!]

Which brings me to my point. [Seriously? It's that time of the decade?] What dreams do we have percolating within us that, no matter how we ignore them, just won't die? I've got a couple of big ones. [What does chest size have to do with anything?]

1) Rock Princess
As some of you know, this was my biggest dream. I took voice lessons, wrote songs, practiced guitar until I had calluses, and helped form a kick-ass rock band. [Must you use profanity? Oh, wait, yes. You're talking about rock and roll for f*ck's sake.] We performed, recorded, had our music played on the radio, won songwriting awards, and became one of the best original rock bands in Denver. But, over time, I stopped pursuing my greatest passion.

An acoustic guitar sits by my bed taunting me; willing me to joyfully create. [You do realize guitars are inanimate objects, right?] Sometimes I strum the steel strings, but more often, I don't. I still love singing and writing songs, but there's a sadness around it for me. I gave up on the 'big dream,' and hate that I gave up. [Don't be a hater. It's bad karma.]

2) Famous Painter
This may come as a surprise, since I haven't picked up a paintbrush since I was four, but I've daydreamed about painting beautiful masterpieces (think a cross between Monet and DaVinci) for most of my life. [Oh, look! Now a PURPLE elephant is playing with the pink one. How cute!] Alas, this dream dies a quick, painless death each time I choose not to do anything about it.

Then there are the dreams that refuse to die.

My writing is at the top of this list. Since I write full-time, one could say I've already achieved this dream. [BWAHAHAHA! Oh, wait. That wasn't a joke?] My muse, Lenora Esmeralda Cecelia Isabella Alexandria, or Lecia for short, [Your therapist has an opening in an hour. You should snag it.] dances freely through my mind, and with the exception of her waking me up in the middle of the night to write, "You simply must not forget dees, dahlink!" (her words, not mine), I love her with all my writerly heart. [You really are a fruit loop.]

Another dream I have is to turn my new town home (moving in mid-May) into a dwelling deserving of being featured in Architectural Digest. I love interior decorating and long to create unforgettable designs. [And I long to marry George Clooney and live on my own private island, but only one of us is smart enough to realize THAT AIN'T EVER GONNA HAPPEN!] Even if AD never comes calling, the pure joy of creating a living space that reflects my passions, personality, and artistic sensibility will be a gloriously manifested dream. [Oy, just oy.]

What about you? Do you have dreams that won't die? Dreams that pluck at your heart strings like a love-struck harpist? Do you have passions you've left in the dust only to be swept away like a tumbleweed in a whipping, western wind storm?

[Okay, that's it. I've got to stop you right here. You call yourself a writer? WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT LAST PARAGRAPH ABOUT? This literary rubbish is humiliating to you, your parents, family, friends, strangers within a thousand miles, and most importantly, me, your [beloved, precious, beguiling] subconscious. Cut it out or I'll beat Lecia to death with an imaginary wet noodle, and leave you with nothing more than your worthless drivel and worn-out cliches. Don't cross me. I'm warning you! You need to stop this nonsense now. RIGHT NOW!]

I'm not sure why I feel the sudden need to end this post, but I do. So, please, friends, share your dreams. I'd love to hear them all.

Genre Surfing

2011-02-21T10:05:00.021-05:00

Draft #7 is off to AA (cue party music and drop the confetti), and I'm about to dig into a brand new story.

Draft #7 is YA, and my new project is women's fiction. There is sometimes controversy surrounding writing in different genres:

1) If the first book you sell is a certain genre, can you then dive into another? Or, is that like being a debut author all over again?

2) How does your agent feel? Does he/she specialize in a particular genre? (In which case, is it kosher to have more than one agent?)*

3) Would your agent prefer you stick to "what works?"

4) If you write in different genres, do you use different pen names/pseudonyms?

5) Will your publisher expect you to pump out books in only one genre?

*If you don't have an agent yet and you write in more than one genre, this is an important topic to discuss when you receive an offer of representation.

These questions are vital, especially since, unless you're James Patterson with a staff of a gazillion writers, how many books can you write in a year?

So far, I've written nearly five full novels (I'm a little over halfway done with one of them.) Two are women's fiction, two fun murder mysteries, and one is YA. The YA novel is the one I hope AA will be shopping around soon.

As I said, I'm about to begin another book, a women's fiction story I scribbled out the first few pages to on my cruise last month. I'm looking forward to the change of pace and the ability to tackle "adult" topics. I've concentrated on nothing but my YA novel for nearly a year and a half, and as much as I ADORE this book (yes, I'm still madly in love with it!), my artistic muscles are aching to shift gears.

What about you? Do you write in different genres? If so, what have your experiences been? What are your thoughts on the subject?

Ends and Beginnings. Beginnings and Ends. Or, Rock it, Baby, Rock It!

2011-02-07T19:47:00.020-05:00

I'm down to the last 50 pages of edits on my YA manuscript. (Cue loud cheers, put the brownies in the oven, and chill the champagne.) For those of you who've been counting, this is Draft #7.

This book's journey began in September of '09 with an idea. Actually, that's not true. It began with a title. Soon after, I had a fuzzy idea. I pitched it to AA in one short sentence, and she asked to read my first draft when it was done. Six weeks later, I completed the first draft and nervously hit the "send" button. She read it, loved it, and offered me representation. Although it was the fifth novel I'd completed, I had no idea how much work would be involved.

I wrote, rewrote, changed POV, hired an editor, and now, here I am, almost a year and a half later, getting ready to ship off (what I hope will be) the last fully edited draft to AA. As much as I love this ms, I'm starting to get an itch; an itch that can only be scratched by a new story and new characters.

Enter... NEW BEGINNING! (Don't worry. That's not the title.)

I'd previously mentioned that, while on my cruise, I scribbled out the first few pages of a possible new writing adventure. I've got the title and a general idea I hope to pitch to AA soon. I'm excited and terrified about (once again) stepping into the unknown and trusting myself to do the idea justice. In writing, as in life, it's the journey that matters. After all, what's the point of living if not to learn with the curiosity of a child, love with our deepest of hearts, stretch our talents and abilities as far as we can, and eat the most chocolate we can possibly get our hands on?

Art imitates life, so it's no surprise this is a direct parallel to my "real" life. I've been honest about my separation and eventual divorce, because I'm committed to this blog being about my writing journey and my life's journey. This time in my life has been both brutal and exhilarating, but one thing's for sure: every second has been a learning experience. Every tear, every accomplishment, and every new day has provided an opportunity to explore my soul and learn more about who I am and who I'm capable of becoming as a writer, woman, mom, friend, daughter, sister, girlfriend, and as a caring, loving human being.

Ends and beginnings. Beginnings and ends. The figure eight of eternity. The endless circle of life where beginnings and ends fade into one.

No matter your perspective, it's all a journey. So, have fun with it, love it, share it, live it, and most importantly, rock it, baby ROCK IT!

And Then There Were Three...

2011-02-01T11:40:00.015-05:00

One of the less talked about casualties of separation and divorce are pets.* Less than a year ago, I was slave to six feline captors. Now, I'm slave to only three.

Tiger Lilly and Zoro went to my soon-to-be-ex and Scampy went to a good friend. It's strange watching the dear creatures in your life leave in pet carriers into a brand new life; one you're not privy to, but one you know (hope, pray) is alive and well and filled with other voices, other routines, other pet brothers and sisters. It's odd to know my "babies" now belong to someone else.

I'm lucky my kids are old enough that there were no custody issues. Dealing with custody of our "fur babies" has been difficult enough. I wonder what they think as they leave the only home they've ever known for the last time. I wonder what Dusty, Caramel, and Emma - the cats who've stayed behind - think happened to those who've left. I know they don't think in language like we do, but they do have feelings and are aware of what's going on around them.

After Scampy left on Saturday, I noticed Emma roaming the house seeming somewhat confused. I imagine she was looking for "Uncle Scamp." Where did he go? When is he coming back? Why isn't he playing with me? It's fascinating watching and wondering how life occurs for them. I couldn't help but feel a little sadness for the bonds they had that will never be again. (Ah yes, bonds that were that will never be again...)

Then again, do we ever really know how life occurs for anyone else? This past year has taught me the answer to that question is a resounding, "No!"

So, what to do?

Love those in your life as fully as possible and be as true to your word as you can.

To Tiger Lilly, Zoro, and Scamp: I love you and always will. I think about you every day and hope your lives are happy and fulfilled.

To my dear friends and family: Ditto. ;-))

*Cats appearing in order: Caramel and Dusty (brother and sister) in the kitchen; Emma snuggling with Zoro; Tiger Lilly chilling in the pool room; and Scampy on his throne.

IN OTHER NEWS...
I'm plugging along on edits to Draft #7, hoping this will be the draft that goes on submission. I'm taking my time with it; committed to only one chapter per day. I should be done by the end of the month. Then, off to Awesome Agent for a read-through. From there, who knows? But I know what my goal is: to be published. Again and again and again. Only time will tell. In the meantime, I'm living my dream - to be a writer.

And, really, what else is there in life but to live our dreams?

And the Winner Is............WINTER!

2011-01-26T09:35:00.014-05:00

I've raised the white flag. (Or, in this case the red, white and blue one.) I've lost the fight. Winter has won.

In stark contrast to my cruise pictures, here are some shots I took today outside my house. The last one I took inside my house. In fact, I took it inside my oven.

After all, what are snow days for if not for baking brownies?

What are you doing to get through this relentless winter? Any tips involving chocolate will be greatly appreciated.

Seduce Me

2011-01-19T09:22:00.007-05:00

This post promises to be short and, oh so very, sweet...

I just read the talented Jody Hedlund's post on first chapters and, like all great posts, it made me think. She asks what it is we look for in a first chapter; what is necessary to keep the reader reading?

It's different for each of us, and varies depending upon our age, gender, mood and genre we're reading. But, generally speaking, when you open up a book, what do you look for?

Mystery?

Excitement?

Challenge?

Romance?

Do you like the action to hit you over the head, or do you prefer it be slow and building?

The answers to these questions might stretch farther than what you look for in a great read. Maybe they're indicative of what you look for in life.

What do you seek in relationships, careers, hobbies, entertainment, vacations? What floats your boat, tips your hat, rings your bell?

In romantic relationships, for example, do you like fireworks straight away or, like a kitten, do you prefer to play with it, bat at it, wait for it to surprise you?

Personally, I like the hint of something I can't quite put my finger on. I like a relationship to build slowly over time. I like the flower to open it's brilliant petals slowly. I prefer to sip a full-bodied glass of wine, breathe in a spicy appetizer, lap at a soothing cup of soup, and THEN enjoy the tantalizing main course. (And if I'm feeling especially feisty, revel in an after dinner drink!)

In other words, in writing as in life, seduce me.

So I'm back to the Velvet Underground... Or, I Went Grocery Shopping and I Liked It

2011-01-12T12:12:00.021-05:00

So I'm back to the velvet underground

Back to the floor, that I love
To a room with some lace and paper flowers,
Back to the gypsy
That I was
To the gypsy...
That I was.
Gypsy by Ms. Stephanie Lynn Nicks

Hello, everyone. I'm back! I'm not sure if the PA burbs qualify as the Velvet Underground, but, l ike Stevie meant in her song , I'm back to the place I love and feel most comfortable, and where I'm learning to live alone again.

Where am I back from? An amazing Caribbean cruise with my kids. Here are a few pics to prove my point.

This first pic is of the beautiful Magen's Bay in St. Thomas.

The second pic is me pointing at a female pirate's booby. Yup, you read that right. Apparently, this nice Irish gal, Anne Bonney, tracked dow n her runaway husband in the Virgin Islands and murdered him. She also slept with many ship captains and then killed them. She was quite the role model in her day.

Pic 3: Adam & I sharing our first cocktail before we set sail.

Pic 4: Movies Under the Stars on board the Ruby Princess. We watched more football than we did movies.

Pic 5: Ethan, me, and Adam after Ethan's birthday dinner at the Crown Grill - think Morton's Steakhouse at sea.

Pic 6: Ethan and Adam in the Michelangelo dining room.

Pic 7: Ethan - on his birthday! - swimming at St. Maarten after we went helmet diving.

The cruise was filled with many wonderful experiences, including a new book idea. Sitting in the library on board the ship, I watched the ocean pass by and scribbled the first five pages to a new women's fiction story. I'm very excited about it, however, I still have to finish editing my YA novel. According to my editor, this draft may well be "the one" - the final edit before AA takes the book out on submission. So, in order to finish YA Draft 7 and forge ahead on WF Draft 1, I need to get "discipline." Some people get religion, others get milk, I have to get discipline.

Where do I find this so-called "discipline?" Can I save up cereal box tops and send away for it? Buy it on Amazon.com? Find it on one of those late-night infomercials? Is it tucked away next to the gold in the California hills? I'm hoping it's located back in the calm, turquoise waters of the Caribbean, because that's a damn fine place to be. (Which is why, I've already booked my next cruise for later this year!!!)

Along with pondering self-discipline, I learned several important things about myself on this trip:

1) I need to eat breakfast.
I know this sounds like a big, fat "DUH!!!" but I've never been a breakfast eater. My normal schedule is to get up around 8AM and have a protein shake around 10AM. Then, maybe lunch, maybe not, and a big dinner. WHAT an idiot.

So, get this. (To those of you who know me well, you may want to sit down for this next part. Seriously. Consider yourself warned.) What's one of the first things I did after coming home from my trip? I went to the grocery store! (I hear a lot of thuds out there. I hope there are defibrillators nearby.) True story. I went to the grocery story and (same warning applies) I LIKED IT!!! Katy Perry, move over. Kissing girls is nothing. I went grocery shopping and I liked it...

For those of you who don't know me well, I'd rather walk naked in Antarctica or worse, go moose hunting with Sarah Palin in Alaska (where she can see Russia from her house!) than buy groceries.

But there I went. I bought fresh fruit (not the cut-up kind - actual whole melons!!! You can cut them yourself! Who knew?!), brown eggs (from cage-free, vegetarian-fed hens - yup, I'm a card-carrying, liberal tree-hugger), low-fat, whole-wheat English Muffins, and orange-pineapple juice. I also got green and red peppers, cheese, Rosemary crackers, and shrimp (peeled and de-veined) to go with my wonderful red wine habit. (Healthy in moderation, or so me and the Mayo Clinic believe.)

2) My bed should not double as my office. (Don't argue with me. I'm on a roll.)
So, I've chosen to move my lap top down to the kitchen and do my writing there instead of sitting like a lazy bum all day in bed. I also intend to make myself tea. Every day. That's right, you heard me - TEA! (Chai with skim milk and sugar, if you must know.)

For those of you who do know me well, you're probably thinking, "Who are you and what have you done with our spoiled, rotten, lazy, JAP, Debbie?"

Never fear, she's right here; just going through a major life transformation. I'm taking care of myself now. There's no one to blame but me if I'm not as healthy and happy as I can be. And I hate being wrong, so, I may as well try and get it right.

I'm finding taking care of myself is like kissing girls and going grocery shopping.

I like it. ;-)

Thanks to Stephen Powell for the inspiration for this post.

Cheers to 2011!

2010-12-31T08:57:00.013-05:00

Another year has come and gone, and what a year it has been. It was, without a doubt, the most difficult year of my life. However, in spite of that, the year was filled with many wonderful moments, a heightened appreciation for family and friends, and much devout soul-searching. These moments and people are part of what have shaped the "me" I am today: richer in spirit; more aware of who I am; more aware of my strengths and weaknesses.

Things I learned in 2010:

When you're going through hell, keep going. (Winston Churchill)
Friends and family are the glue of life. (My gratefulness can not be properly expressed in words.)
There truly is a light at the end of the tunnel.
I have the stick-to-it-ive-ness to complete as many drafts of my work as necessary.
Cabo San Lucas is a sublimely beautiful place.
It's not only okay, but essential to lean heavily on the people you love when you're going through tough times.
Mumford and Sons are fiercely talented.
I have the ability to unplug a stopped-up sink! (Who knew?)

What I hope to learn in 2011:

How to live powerfully on my own.
How to create an unimagined friendship with my soon-to-be-ex; one that brings joy to me, him and, most importantly, our children.
What it feels like to have my book on submission and sold.
How to love my children more and be a better mom.
What more of my passions are, and how to express them and my current passions in a more disciplined way.
How to deeply love again.
How to contribute through volunteering.
What it's like to hold my new niece or nephew in my arms. (Thanks, Michelle and Travis!)
What it feels like to stand on European soil.
How not to be bitter.
How to be the best possible version of me.

Those are some of my goals for the New Year. What are some of yours?

Our lives are measured, in part, by "years." So, cheers to 2011! Here's to all of us making it one of the best years of our lives.

SUBLIMINAL BIRTHDAY MESSAGE: Or, THE CAKE WAS COVERED IN FRUIT!

2010-12-18T07:54:00.011-05:00

Today is my birthday, and I'm officially "old." [Though, not compared to this gal.] This is a milestone birthday - one that starts with an "f" and ends in a "y." [HINT: It's more than 10 and less than a million.]

In my early twenties, I never thought I'd live to see such a ripe, old age due to my status as rock princess. Given that career path, I figured I'd burn out well before the end of my 30's. [People in their 20's are SO over-dramatic!] However, here I am, not feeling much older [or wiser] than I did back then.

Easing the pain of this transition, is the fact that my birthday is shared by some seriously mega-awesome folks. After all, other super-cool people sharing my birthday means I'm super-cool, too, right? [Um, no. Not even remotely.] Here are a few of my A-List birthday-sharers:

Keith Richards (rock legend)
Stephen Spielberg (genius movie maker)
Brad Pitt (yum)
Paul Klee (awesome painter)
Christina Aguilera (too talented and gorgeous to be human)
Katie Holmes (Tom Cruz's better half)
Rachel Griffiths (Sarah on "Brothers and Sisters")
Ron White (damn funny comedian)
Betty Grable (quintessential movie star)
Brian Orser (Olympic medalist figure skater)

That's a seriously kick-ass group to be a part of, don't you think? [You think you're part of that group? BWAHAHAHAH!!!!]

Due to this "big" birthday, I've been taking stock of my life. [Set up for disaster.] Here's what I've been delicately pondering:

"What is my life for?"
"Have I achieved [even one of] my goals?"
"Where do I want to be in 5 or 10 years?" [Besides napping.]
"Have I been a good mom? Daughter? Sister?"
"What did I do to deserve AA?" (Awesome Agent, in case you don't know.)
"Will I be published before I'm 100?"
"How many minutes has it been since I last ate chocolate?"
"Who stole my Cabernet?"
and
"How long until I lose my teeth and start wearing diapers?"

While in Denver last month, we celebrated my sister, Sharon's birthday. My mom brought out a "cake" that was so beautiful it belonged in a museum next to a Monet. However, it was an impostor cake. By that I mean, it was covered in fruit. Yes, you read that right. THE CAKE WAS COVERED IN FRUIT! [So, it was a fruitcake, like you?] {Yo, SM: That was cruel and unnecessary. I'm old now, which means I can be crotchety and get away with it. I'd watch myself if I were you!} [I'm sorry, did you say something? I was busy listening to the ringing in my ears.] {Grrr! Your dad is a robot and your mom wears fake Ugg boots!! See! I told you I could be crotchety!} [Sorry, missed you again. Am watching House Hunters International on HGTV; retired couple looking for a home in St. John. Fascinating. You should check it out. ]

I looked at the fruit-laden pretend cake and screamed, "Where the hell's the chocolate?" [Clearly, you have no self control.] {Oh, yeah? Well, at least I didn't toss the fake cake across the room and stomp up the stairs like I wanted to! How's that for self-control???} [The rumors I've heard are true. You're beyond help.]

On cue, my mom (the gorgeous woman in the pic with me) brought out a "real" cake - a chocolaty tower of gooey yumminess. What a relief! As we got to the end of the birthday song, I sang, "dear Sharon..." and everyone else sang, "dear, Debbie..." It took me a minute to realize I'd been had. In my family's thoughtful [annoying] way, they'd gotten me an early birthday cake in honor of my "big" [ancient] birthday. I briefly considered asking the cake to marry me, but knew it would be gone before I could say, "I do." So I skipped the nuptials and dug into the chocolate dream like a trapped coal miner trying to free himself. [That's the best visual you could come up with? Horrifying.] {Bite me.}At some point I came up for air and reluctantly shared what was left with my family. After all, I didn't want to be pummeled to death before I actually turned f-f-f-f-f-f, well, old. [Mummy-like]

So, ladies and gentlemen, in honor of my 50th birthday (there, I said it! I'M FIFTY!!!!), I've attached links to two of my favorite things: comedy and music. First, is one of the funniest women alive, Molly Shannon, as Sally O'Malley on SNL, and second is, "Birthday" by the Sugarcubes. How that voice explodes out of such a petite, ethereal, beautiful wisp of a woman is beyond me and proof-positive of the magnificent power of art.

So, Molly and Bjork, take it away!

(By the way, they say 50 is the new 30, but I hope that's not true. For the most part, my 30's sucked.)

And, to all the wonderful Sagittarians out there, Happiest of Happy Birthdays!!!
[Aw, shucks, go ahead and have a drink on me. You deserve it. But if you tell anyone I said so, I'll deny it.]
{See, I knew you had a soft spot somewhere!}
[Luck pushing = bad idea. Let's just pretend we never had this conversation.]
{Okay, teddy bear - mum's the word! ;-))}

Lucky 7? One can only hope.

2010-12-06T09:50:00.004-05:00

First of all, please forgive me for my seriously sporadic blog posting of late. I have no reasonable excuse other than I've had other things on my mind. Here's an update of what's going on in my world:

RE: WRITING
Edits are coming back tomorrow from my brilliant editor, so now is (once again!) the calm before the revision storm. In my dreams she'll say, "Oh. My. God. This is the most perfected sixth draft I've EVER read in all my days of editing! You must go, now, and share your sixth draft brilliance with all the world!"

Instead, the communication will likely go something like this: "Great job, Debbie - you're on the right path. At some point, before your kids ship you off to a nursing home, this may even be done! Prior to your Alzheimer's fully setting in, you may actually experience what it's like to be on submission! Isn't that exciting? In the meantime, here's what you need to focus on... You're welcome." Then she'll tap her fingers on the desk and say, "I'm sorry, what are you waiting for? Get back to work!"

So, starting Tuesday, I'll be diving into Draft #7 with full abandon. Lucky 7? One can only hope.

RE: PERSONAL STUFF
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving in Den ver was beyond! The mingling of family and friends, great food, and super-celebrations was one for the history books. Here are a few pics.

1) Thanksgiving tables at my sister Sharon's house. More than 40 people attended!
2) Me and my dad. ;-)
3) Me and my mom. ;-)
4) Me and my handsome son, Adam. ;-)
5) My beautiful niece, Devyn, my dad, and me.

Click here for more Thanksgiving pics.

It's been pointed out that I forgot to mention a big part of my wonderful week in Denver included my dear niece and nephew's Bar and Bat Mitzvah. Here's a picture of the fabulous twins:

House Hunting
I'm searching tirelessly for a new place; a place I can call my own that won't hold any of the ghosts - both good and bad - of my past. The search is sometimes invigorating, and sometimes sad. I hate the reason for the search, but I love the possibility of finding a perfect new home - a special place to make new memories.

Here are some of the house-hunting questions that are keeping me awake at night:

Do I want a newer house without any headaches, or an older place with a bit more character?
Do I want to live in the same town - a town I love, but that contains places that sometimes trigger sadness and anger?
Would it be better to move to a new area and get a totally clean start?
What features are most important to me? (Double sinks in the master bathroom? Small lot vs large lot? Well water vs public?)
Do I want everything updated, or would it be better to make updates myself to make the place more of "my own?"
How much room do I need/want?
What can I comfortably afford?
What's important for resale down the line?

And most importantly...

What will my kitties think?

The house I'm in now was our "dream house" - the home we worked our whole lives for. I never imagined that less than seven years later I'd be leaving this beautiful place, and certainly not for a home of my own.

However, life sometimes delivers unexpected twists and turns...

A wise woman once told me, "The test of a good marriage is not how you deal with the easy stuff, but how you deal with the hard stuff. Anyone can get through the easy stuff." I think this holds true for all aspects of life. I'm doing my best to keep my spirits up even with Nirvana's song, "All Alone is All We Are" creeping through my mind...

New Car
I'm getting a new car! Well, it's not exactly new, it's a 2008. But, it's a Mercedes. Yup, you read that right. Trust me, I'd rather have my marriage intact, but a Mercedes isn't a bad booby prize.

Yoga
Next week I'm taking my first yoga class in years. It's an hour and fifteen minute private lesson, so it may be the last thing I ever do. (If I never post again, you'll know why.)

Seminar
I'm taking a seminar given by Landmark Education called, "Living Powerfully: A Life that Defies the Predictable." Out of this seminar, I'm committed to creating a powerful relationship with everyone in my life. I'm also committed to being joyful, inspirational, and compassionate or, put another way, I'm committed to bringing joy, inspiration, and compassion to all areas of my life. That's a tall order, but one worth pursuing.

These are some of the ups and downs of my life. What about you? What's new in your world? Don't be shy... spill!

Thanksgiving Kitty Says...

2010-11-22T09:43:00.009-05:00

Thanksgiving kitty says, "May your Thanksgiving be filled with family, friends, joy, love, laughter, music, good health, and moments you'll treasure forever." I happen to agree. (Smart kitty. Pretty eloquent, too!)

I'm heading to Denver to be with family for a week. From my family to yours, we hope your holiday is BEYOND!

And the #1 Answer Is... FAMILY & FRIENDS! (Feline captors very much included.)

2010-11-17T08:32:00.008-05:00

Thanksgiving is right around the corner, which got me thinking: What are the five most important things in your life? Here are mine:

1) Family & Friends
2) Health
3) Creativity
4) Honesty
5) Laughter

What are yours?

TOP FIVE CHALLENGE:
1) Think of something you could do involving your Top Five.
2) Do it or plan it.
3) Let me know what you've come up with.
4) Smile and pat yourself on the back. (Or, whatever it is you do to yourself when congratulations are in order.)

Also, what are your Thanksgiving plans? I'm going with my oldest son to be with family and friends in Denver. This has been a difficult year for me, but I've much to be thankful for. After all, I've still got my Top Five. ;-)

Novel Birth Announcement

2010-11-05T08:30:00.005-04:00

BOOK UPDATE:
I'm about to ship off Draft #6 to my editor (freelance, the novel hasn't gone on submission yet). One year ago, almost to the day, Draft #1 came kicking and screaming into the world. If it had a birth announcement, it would've gone something like this:

PLEASE GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO THE NEWEST MEMBER OF MY FAMILY!

Name: Can't tell you yet. (Agent will kill me.)

Date: November 17, 2009

Sex: Both

Weight: 1.2 lbs

Height: 11 inches

Width: 8.5 inches

The new baby is WONDERFUL, although it has already caused many sleepless nights and serious self-doubting on Mommy's part. This next year will, no doubt, be filled with numerous bouts of mind-numbing growing pains, causing Mommy to drink wine and eat lots of chocolate chip cookies. (More than usual. Often at the same time.)

In lieu of baby presents, please send chocolate and Cabernet! Or money. Money's good.

Since baby was born, I've written five more complete drafts. That means, reading every word on every page over and over ad nauseum, changing POV, editing, revising, adding, subtracting, and all that goes into subsequent drafts. During this latest draft, I cut out over ten pages, and added thirty more. Raising this baby for the past year has been filled with "first steps" and lots of crying (me, not the baby). BUT no matter how much work it has been, it has always been a "labor" of love.

I'm about to take a breath again as I hand over my pages to my ingenious editor. I'm hoping sometime before my 100th birthday, AA will say, "This effing rocks! Let's take this BABY on submission!" (Of course, by then it'll technically be a toddler, but it would be weird to say, "Let's take this TODDLER on submission!") Alas, I regress. My point is, until AA and I feel this baby's ready to crawl into the world (and set it on fire!), I'll keep working until it's the very best it can be.

Where are you in your writing? What is the most number of drafts you've ever completed on a novel?**

**No, this is not a competition and you won't be receiving any of my prized chocolate. I'm just darn curious.

And, to those of you participating in N aNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month - Goal of writing 50,000 words between Nov. 1 and Nov. 30), I have only two things to say:

1) Good luck!

and...

2) Better you than me. ;-))

Shortest Subliminal Blog Post Ever!

2010-11-01T09:30:00.003-04:00

Don't forget to GET OUT AND VOTE [Democratic] TOMORROW!!!

Got Transformation?

2010-10-29T08:44:00.010-04:00

I started a seminar last night called, "Living Powerfully: A Life that Defies the Predictable." It's given by Landmark Education Corporation, the folks who do The Forum; a program that transformed my life nearly two decades ago.

I did The Forum in 1992, and have always said next to getting married and having kids, it's the greatest thing I ever did. Of course, that comment may need alteration, but you get my point.

Over the course of the three day program, I was transformed. But what does that really mean? For me it meant experiencing something so profound that it challenged what I knew to be "true" and provided me with freedom to experience life and the people in it in a way I never imagined possible. It completely rocked my world. That's what I mean by "transformation." Put another way, when I went back to work on the Monday after my Forum, everyone seemed kinder, friendlier, more helpful; the trees looked greener, my kids were even more beautiful (didn't think that was possible!). Did everything and everyone change while I was in The Forum? No. What changed was my perception of everything. What changed was my transformation.

Last night (in a group of 225 people) we talked about how life can be predictable, mundane, a fight, boring, stressful, uninspiring, etc. We also talked about what would be possible if life was inspiring, exciting, less stressful, free, and unpredictable. We discussed what would be possible if we weren't run by our circumstances; if we were the cause of our lives. What would life look like if we kept our word and weren't driven only by our wants and desires?

Those are the kinds of things I'm up to right now. Shaking up my world, unleashing my true power, listening powerfully, passionately pursuing my dreams, and loving the people in my life with all my heart and soul.

So, what are you up to in life? What kinds of things would be possible for you if you weren't "run" by your circumstances?

SUBLIMINAL FRIDAY: Dear Blog

2010-10-22T06:30:00.003-04:00

Dear Blog,

I've been sent by your owner to clarify a few things. First of all, please know, she thinks of you often and wishes you nothing but the best. [What-ev]. She knows you've been confused by her sporadic postings, and apologizes profusely. [The only thing she does profusely is eat chocolate.] She hopes people click on your fascinating links and are touched by the [brilliant] words she has [thoughtfully] written. [Time, she adds, that could've been better spent eating, napping, and/or watching Oprah.]

She's sure you read the posts she [painstakingly] writes, so you probably realize her life has been a bit bumpy of late. Hence, the undependable blog postings. Yes, you should feel sorry for her [send Raisinets], but no you shouldn't move in with her and help with the laundry. [Yes, you should.]

If you need her, she's here for you. [She'll be gone 'til Monday.] Feel free to call, text, FB, or Twitter her. She promises to [have her imaginary secretary] get back to you ASAP [if and when she feels like it].

Anyway, enough about her, how's life been treating you? Good? That's great! [Snoring.]

Oh, and one more thing. Your owner told me to tell you she'll be back to regular blogging one day soon. [Is 2015 soon?] She also said she loves you very much and is proud of all you've accomplished. [She never said that.]

So, dear blog, hang in there and know your owner loves you. [It's true. She does.]

Love always times a billion trillion gazillion times infinity,

Your Owner's BFF,
Amelia Genevieve Simone Bardot

[A dead ringer for the love child of George Clooney and Angelina Jolie.] [BWAHAHAHA!!!!]

Friday Writing Advice

2010-10-15T10:51:00.010-04:00

I realize this isn't the most modest thing to say, but my YA novel is rocking the house!

One year ago today, I was in the middle of the first draft. Now, I'm 2/3 of the way through Draft #6.

I've been on a major writing roll lately after a long dry spell. The creative process - like life - works best when you let it flow naturally, rather than trying to bend it to your will. My trip to Mexico was just what I needed to replenish my soul and feel freed up to create magic in both my life and my writing.

So here's some Friday Writing Advice: (And, you might enjoy these tips from Kiersten White's husband, Hot Stuff - pure genius, that!)

1) Listen to your muse. Trust his/her lessons.

2) Take breaks when you need them! Trust yourself to know when that is.

3) Write like a banshee when you can. Let the words flow and edit later.

4) Enjoy your life! Living life to the fullest by treasuring every moment, is the best way to get prime plot lines and character ideas that make your stories as interesting as possible.

Now, get out there and enjoy your weekend! I'll see you on flip side. ;-))

I've Come to the Sea or What I Learned on my Autumn Vacation

2010-10-07T23:21:00.021-04:00

I had one goal while in Mexico: to leave the past behind and get on with my life. And, I'm happy to report, I achieved my goal.

To sum it up, let me start by saying that when I was around 20 years old, I created a "safe song," meaning whenever I'd hear a song in my head that I hated, I'd replace it with a particular song I loved. It was a way to reprogram my mind. (As a musician, hearing music I don't like is like rubbing salt in an open wound times a thousand. Painful doesn't begin to describe it.) The wonderful song I chose to replace the bad one with was, "Friends" from Led Zeppelin's third albu m:

I'm tellin' you, now
The greatest thing you ever can do, now
Is trade a smile with someone who's blue, now
It's very easy, it's very easy

Before my vacation, I was watching Jenny McCarthy on Oprah. (Stick with me, I swear this will all come together.) When asked about how she was doing after her split from Jim Carrey, she said, "I've learned so many great lessons. One is, I'm the total hot fudge sundae. If a great guy comes along, then it's like I've got extra whipped cream and hot fudge, but it's not necessary. I'm a complete sundae all by myself." (Or words to that effect.)

That stuck with me, and when I was in Mexico, I was having a conversation with my sister, Laurie, about my "safe song" and the Jenny M. interview.

"You need a safe word!" she said, referring to how my mind kept obsessing about my recent situation. "How about hot fudge sundae?"

And, there it was. Hot Fudge Sundae. Transformation.

Now, every time I go to that dark place I think, "Hot fudge sundae!" (HFS) and snap myself out of debilitating, life-sucking thoughts and back into the present and my infinite blessings. (If you're in a "stuck" place in life, figure out what your HFS is. Trust me, it's the greatest gift you can give yourself.)

Here are a couple of clips from Cabo. The first was taken on our last day there. Laurie and I were sitting by one of the four, magnificent pools at the resort and she was interviewing me about what I got out of the trip. (Now you'll understand the HFS reference!) The second is a poem I wrote while staring out at the sea from my balcony. Again, it's my beautiful sister, Laurie, behind the camera. The lyrics are posted just below the link, and the picture is of a rock we named, "Lion Rock," which is referenced in the poem.

(This is a picture of Laurie and I. I'll be posting more pics from the trip on my FB page if you're interested.)

Here goes:

What I Learned on My Autumn Vacation

I've Come to The Sea

I’VE COME TO THE SEA
I’ve come to the sea to see about me
To feel my great power, to set myself free
I’ve come to the sea to hear the waves moan
To wrap me inside them and bring me back home
I’ve come to the sea where my spirits can dance
On white crests of heaven, on Lion Rock’s past

I’ve come to the sea to leave deep parts behind
Parts that are tainted and haunting my mind
I’ve come to the sea where my heart comes alive
To see through to truth so my soul may survive
I’ve come to the sea where the mystic waves reign
And the magic chants whisper a love I can’t name

I come to the sea where the sun and clouds meet
Rejoice in their majesty, make me complete
I come to the sea when my heart is in pain
A breath that is ancient restores me again
I come to the sea where my soul’s angels fly
And my heart, it is healing, through wondrous tides

I come to the sea to feel myself soar
Awaken my core as the waves kiss the shore
I come to the sea where I find life again
Sand castles beckoning suffering’s end
I come to the sea, on my spirits I call
They hold me up high upon nothing at all

I come to the sea where my soul beats its drum
To a rhythm of tides that cannot come undone
I come to the sea to find much that I’ve lost
To remind me to sing my own song at all costs
I come to the sea to sleep peaceful and calm
To hear the sea’s wisdom, be rocked in its arms

I come to the sea where my mind is at peace
Waves whisper, “Let go, let your soul be released”
I’ve come to the sea where my heart is on fire
Dancing a tango of love and desire
I come to the sea to find truth in a wave
And feel magical, passionate light shine my way

I come to the sea to feel cleansed and complete
To see I am all that I ever will need
I’ve come to the sea where my family dwells
In their vision and warmth I am perfectly held
I’ve come to the sea to let go of the nights
That are holding me back, choking me tight
I’ve come to the sea so at home I can start
To give my love freely to those in my heart
I’ve come to the sea where my joy comes alive
For the sea is the place I’ve adored for all time

JCK. 10.3.10

Sand Castles

2010-09-27T10:00:00.000-04:00

Sand castles, that's what I'll be building. Sand castles with arches, moats, funky-shaped doors, dragons, a prince and princess, and those fun-to-make drippy castle spires.

And, yes, I'll be building them on the beach. What am I doing and how long will I be gone? I'm going on vacation to Mexico for a week with my family!

During that time, I'll be completely "off the grid," which I've NEVER done before. No blog*, twitter, email, or cell phone. I have to admit, I'm more than a little worried. What if I come back and no one remembers me? I'll yell, "Hello, out there!" into the dark recesses of the internet, and hear nothing more than my own annoying voice echoing back.

"See, I told you so?" the WWW will reply, "You snooze, you lose!"

I"ll exist in an infinite state of washed-up oblivion, and for what? Because I needed a change of scenery? Because I've been yearning for a People magazine in a chaise lounge with extra pillows by the pool? Because I've been dreaming of swimming up to a bar and ordering a margarita from a handsome tanned guy with big muscles? Are these things so very wrong?

Ah, seven days and seven nights of glorious memory-making - laughing and watching sunsets with my sisters and brothers-in-law, basking in the wisdom and beauty of my parents, and building sand castles on the beach with my one-year old niece. (Yes, this is actually where we're staying - our own private villa with our own private pool. UN-BE-FREAKING-LIEVABLE!!!)

As much fun as it will be, I'm looking forward to returning refreshed, repaired, raring to go, and better able to fulfill the roles and responsibilities I've chosen for myself. My goal is to continue to move forward and fully "be" here for the incredible people in my life. And I'm excited to finish revisions on Draft 6 and send them to AA.

So, what about you? Have you ever taken a "time out" from social media for more than a day or two? If so, how did it go? Did people remember you when you returned? Also - and far more importantly - who is your favorite person to build sand castles with?

*RE: My blog - I like to write about things currently on my mind, so I won't be writing posts ahead of time and posting them. That's just how I roll. ;-)