It's time again to write on my blog. I will tell you the story of the new first chapter of Home or Away, a book I wrote that will be out in March of 2022.

A few things happened:

First, my two pals Bradeigh and Alison read the second-most recent version of the novel, and each felt Chapter 1 wasn't quite right. They offered the same potential solution (convenient!). I attempted it.

"Not quite," said Alison when I showed it to her. I made a few of the additional changes she suggested and then handed it in.

Next, my editor read the newest Chapter 1 and said, "I think we need a slightly different tone." She did some cutting of some hockey jargon, but left me a note that it still needed a magic something.

Lee then also read that version and said, "I do not like Chapter 1. I started liking the book in Chapter 3." You can see now that we have a theme here. Chapter 1 cannot stand as is. Lee offered another strategy, but I couldn't quite figure out how to make it work.

I discussed my predicament with Nicole. It was our whole topic for "stretch and talk," a time on the days when we work together when we simultaneously--you guessed it--stretch! and talk! "Ok," Nicole said. "Let's think about the promise you're making to the reader in Chapter 1 and why that's not working." She asked for some themes of the novel. Competition, I said. Forgiveness. Sisterhood. Commitment. 

Nicole offered another possibility for the chapter based on my answers. I attempted it. Breaking news: I have now sent Chapter 1 back to Lee and Nicole now for review. We can only hope I'm on the right track. If not, the team will go back in the dugout for some more strategizing.

 Here's how it's going:

Revisions on Home or Away: This is my third novel. It's a massive departure from books 1 and 2, and I'm proud of it, tbh.

Also, the process of writing this book has more or less decimated me. It was ridiculously hard to write, and I needed countless pep talks from various friends. I think it was so hard because there was no way in this story to skirt vulnerability and emotional depth. 

My usual fare, quips and banter, require a little less of me in terms of resilience.

Anyway, we're doing one last round of revisions, "we" meaning my editor and me. My goal is to be done in two weeks, and I think I can do it. There might be some crying, but I actually think I might be past that part. Anyway, it's all part of the process.

Progress on Book 4: This is the one I'm calling "Golf Course Murder Book." It's fun and different and there's a dead body. I'm going to learn a lot while writing this because plotting a crime requires more planning than does a suburban dramedy.

Also, it's weird to talk about "usual" since I've only written three books so far. "Usual" seems more like a ten or twelve book thing.

Chores: I don't make the children do chores. But, it's nice when things are picked up. This afternoon, we will all pick up for 7 minutes or so at the same time, and I believe our kitchen family room will look nice after this exercise.

Update: Only one child did the clean-up, and I would say his attitude could be described as "reluctant."

This is a little mantra that comes back to me from time to time. I'm sure I've written about it before. 

(I just checked, and yes, I wrote about it and my guffawing high school English teacher in 2007.) 

"Writing is easy and fun for me," pops right into my head when I'm struggling. I'm currently struggling, and let me now enumerate the ways:

I'm working on a new idea and getting to know new characters. I'm writing lots of scenes that will hit the garbage can. You would think that knowing I'm going to throw it all away would free me, and in some ways, it does! But other times, it just feels daunting. Because I know I'll have to write 200,000 words before I land on the 90,000 right ones.

But, also, I worry that I'm not finding the right ideas or learning the right things about the characters or exploring the right facets of their personalities. Maybe I identified the wrong "five pivotal life moments" that I'm now excavating for the first of five or six main characters. Maybe I haven't gotten the right connections drawn between one character and another.

The young woman I'm writing about right now isn't coming to life in all the right ways yet. One problem is that her name is Felicia. I should probably change that immediately because #ByeFelicia.

I just paused the writing of this blog entry to watch a video about the origin of the expression "Bye Felicia." I had no idea, and it's possibly appropriative for me to use since it was originated by Ice Cube's character in the movie Friday.

So, this is a lot of struggle. Let's start with the easiest problem and rename Felicia. I'm going to switch it right now to Victoria. Do you think that'll help?

I'll keep you posted.

Just yesterday, I was bemoaning the publishing pay structure. You don't get paid on a bi-weekly basis. Rather, you get largeish sums of money at irregular intervals, the frequency of which is mostly beyond your control.

I was thinking about how I hadn't been paid in a while, and then I had the thought, "Well, at least we don't have any pressing home repair projects at the moment."

Everyone knows what happens next. 

The goddamned water heater imploded not two hours after I had that thought. It was the right water heater. We have tandem ones because our house is big and old. In any case, both of them are beyond their life expectancies, and so both are getting replaced today. If I didn't do it that way, you know I'd be calling back in seven days or less for them to do the other one, paying an additional visit fee and also losing my double-heater discount.

To be frank, this whole blasted operation is costing a pretty penny. There are four guys here doing the work. It's ruined my day. I had plans. I can't execute them. I'm dirty because we had no hot water last night. Dan Facetimed with the guy to turn it off, lest it continue to leak all over the basement floor. I wanted to go running. I can't. The dogs are upset and loud. I was supposed to go write in Nicole's studio. I didn't. 

With my overly sensitive nose, I detected a natural gas smell. 

"I'm surprised you can smell it," the guy said. "I replaced the connection, and opened the door."

I can, in fact, smell it, even though I've been assured I'm not going to blow up. It's giving me a migraine. Everything sucks.

Well, not everything. But, this water heater situation for sure.

 I like to update on various things sometimes. This is one of those times.

Hydration: I need to be doing a slightly better job of drinking more water on a daily basis. This is a constant struggle. I've tried to solve my water problems by getting cuter water bottles and fun flavored things to dump in them. I've also tried cute stickers for my cuter water bottles. All of these things work somewhat.

Mechanical Keyboard: I bought a mechanical keyboard for Mac for his birthday. Mac is a keyboard expert and addict and enjoys the various sounds and feels of different types of machines. Right now, I'm using the keyboard I bought for him because I love it, and because he is indeed very generous. It does this wonderful clackity clack thing and makes you want to just keep typing forever. Combine the mechanical keyboard with some good ole comic sans draft font, and I'm churning out a thousand words in no time flat.

Novel Writing: I turned in my third novel for the second time. The honest to goodness truth is that I'm exceedingly proud of it. I need to hold on to that feeling. Now, I'm starting something new and completely different. "Departure" doesn't even cover it. But, just this morning I typed a thousand words of it with the aforementioned clickity clackety magic keyboard. There's murder and revenge and wacky personalities and Lili Pulitzer, I'm pretty sure. 

Dog Ladydom: I'm still a part of it. Three dogs. Can't escape; can't go back.

 Have you ever even heard of having a kid old enough to go to college?

When I started writing this blog, I had a six-month-old baby. That child has now identified first, second, third, and fourth choice colleges. We're in the airport now waiting to fly home from the visits. The whole thing was extremely fun. 6 days, 5 states, 10 schools, and a couple of interludes with BFFs and family members.

And now it'll be back to the real world with a book due once again in a week.

It's scary, but I can probably do it. I've done it before, and this time I have crystals. 

(I'm into crystals now, FYI. I've been carrying amethyst in my pocket for a week and sure enough, there was clarity and solid decision making. The crystals work wonders.)

The other day, Mac had to miss track practice for a doctor's appointment, and so I supervised his workout. This is rather an unfortunate admission, but I consider myself something of a Dwight Schrute to the boys' running coach. 

The Assistant (to the) Regional Manager, or whatever. Basically, I have assigned myself a made-up title that doesn't mean anything except for an occasional pathetic ego-boost, and a pity back-slap from the coach that she doesn't even know she's delivering. It's a little like dance captain.

And it's sad when you think about it, I guess, but anyway. 

I supervised Mac's workout in my quasi-official capacity, and after he understood how the reps would proceed, he said, "Cute workout."

It made me laugh, and it occurred to me that it characterized my feelings about writing these days: "Cute effort." I've got my marching orders on Book 3. The novel needs significant, but not overwhelming, revisions. I'm easing my way back in. The blind commitment to productivity that has defined most of my life to this point has sort of evaporated in the wake of Kevin's death.

But anyway. I'm putting some adorable effort in. Little cute bursts of effort, broken up by pink Starbursts and those weird bite-sized Tootsie Rolls with the candy coating.

Onward? The revisions are due July 5.