Backpack of Doom - Adventures Through Idea Land

Well, it's more of a bright orange bag, with long shoulder straps. I am having around eight 9 and 10 year-old girls over tonight for My Joy's birthday and so I cleaned, which given I have had two weeks of midterms needed to happen (I so need a maid - or other cleaning person - ohh -- look another story -- I'm in trouble now - anyway) and came across the bag of doom, and out of curiosity I dumped out the contents and found out where I had stashed my medical dictionary; The Complete Writer's Guide to Heroes and Heroines - Sixteen Master Archetypes by Tami Cowden, Caro LaFever, Sue Viders; The Writer's Journey by Christopher Vogler; two copies of RT; two copies of RWR; a copy of Archealogy; several dozen pens and pencils; a thumb drive; a cookbook; two notebooks; a journal; and a couple of CD's. Everything a writer needs. Ideas everywhere - I can't wait to delve into them.

Enough Already

My Joy is sick. Again. She was sick last week too. I'm worried. Still. It's not random, it's not viral - unless its a weird viral, and I'm not being hysterical. But I'm worried, and I don't want to be. I'm on the verge of emotionally losing it. And that's not good for anybody.

With or With Out the Muse

So, I'm pretty sure that someone, probably Brynn or Bronwyn, once told me not to wait for the muse to strike, but plant your butt and write anyway. So, I did. I got a couple of pages written before life intervened. But it was a couple of pages - on fiction! It was fun. I'm glad I did it. And I transferred some of my character stuff to my hard-drive so that I can work on it, when the lectures get boring and I need to stay awake.

To Write or Study ....

That is the question - at least for the moment. My Joy is sick, again, (and listening to We Will Rock You by Queen on repeat), and my internet is up, and the first round of mid-terms is over. I still have three mid-terms and a paper to go, but really, the better part of my stress is over. So, now the question is do I want to write or study. I've been studying just about every waking minute for the past few weeks and really, I want a break. Now, I should be studying for the GRE that I'm taking on Saturday and completely forgot about, but I don't want to do that quite yet either. I want to write - need to write - miss writing - but my muse is on vacation - someplace exotic probably, so I'm up in the air about working on Gateway some more or work on something completely new - either 1000 Deaths or Blood, they're both in a different direction than Gateway, infinitely darker and new worlds. But since I can't make up my mind, I'm surfing the Internet and answering the "Mom, I need you!" call.

Children

I've been talking quite a bit about past events, so much so, that it probably borders on whining, but there are few events that will shake a parent like nearly losing a child. I nearly lost My Joy when she was an infant, and now I sit here, watching her sleep trying to not freak out or fall into the trap of worry about what might be. She's sick. A UTI, nothing major, unless it was an that same sort of thing that alerted doctors that a kidney had died and the other was potentially in trouble, and then it has the potential to become downright terrifying. So for now, I'm going to bury myself in Lyn Hamilton's The Xilbalba Murders, which is an excellent read if you are interested in history and archaeology, which I love.

Retreat, Writing, and Midterms

It's Friday, I'm in the office this morning, which means I have 2 1/2 hours of quiet time all to myself, and the internet reading blogs and answering email. So, am I writing, because its quiet, I have deadlines, I should be writing? Nope. Any deadlines I had or have are on hold. I'm in school and this semester I took on Human Physiology, Microbiology, and Biochemistry and the labs, so there is no extra time to write. I know - I know - a writer writes - they must write - it is in their soul to write - yes, but my muse is on hiatus - I know because I asked her to go - so that I could concentrate on my studies. I need A's and if I spend my writing, I can't study. I'm not whining, it's a trade-off.

Next semester - my last as an undergrad - is way easier even though I have more classes, so there will be time to write. And there is time after this semester is over - and it's half over - I know because mid-terms are next week and the writer's retreat I was suppose to go on this weekend with my writer's group, I had to decline because I need to study. I will go to the next one, because it's a great way to recharge, regroup, and be supported by people who understand what it's like to be a writer and the amount of time and energy needed to put the right words down in the right order so that you get the story your characters are demanding you tell in a way that makes sense and doesn't come out like dribble.

I could write and study and work and raise My Joy at the same time, but I'm sure the reader would not like it at all if my sword wielding heroine is just about skewer the evil villain with a flaming loop of bacteria yelling "No, you have to finish your homework and read before you can go outside and play and turn the TV off." And I don't know if my proffessors have enough of a sense of humor to understand how a flaming arrow lodged in the throat of the major bad guy while the hero and heroine scale the fortress wall is the example of DNA and RNA synthesis. But it might work. Maybe.

Or, I'll just bide my time, keeping notes of anything newsworthy or the snippets of information that my characters are sending me and using my papers due as a way to further my research on my books, so that if the heroine is dealing with a rare and antique book, she's not carrying it under her arm or shoving it haphazardly into her backpack, even if doing that would partially accomplish the hero's goal of destroying it.

That being said, I still want to participate in NaNoWriMo, because it would be the first time in years that I haven't. My goal wouldn't be 50,000 words but more like 3,000. Which isn't much, maybe 15 pages. But it's 15 pages. And I'd be writing. But then again, I could end up with my heroine skewering the bad guy with a flaming loop of bacteria.

OMG! It's Here!!!

It's here! And I couldn't wait to say anything. The long days and nights of combing through 6000 pictures and 20 hours of video to widdle it down to 120 pages of photo's and a 1 hour DVD for the 25th Anniversary of the Pontiac Fiero have paid off. The video is done and the first shipment of books have arrived from the printers. Bias aside, they turned out excellent. And I now get to add "Head Photographer" to my name -- as opposed to or in addition to - one or the other - photographer and wearer of way too many hats. Check out Doodle Doll Productions website for more information on the books and dvds.

Another Day of Memories

No, I don't plan on making a habit of walking down memory lane, but it's significant, and I have time right now. I'm in my senior year of college, with two years of grad school to follow and this semester I have Microbiology, Biochemistry, and Human Physiology - with labs. That sucks.

But, in 6 days My Bug - My Joy - my one and only baby turns 10. She's a tween and wants a mixture of the seemingly typical things - a guitar, baby brother, music, movies, and a webkinz. She doesn't like reading, it's tough for her, so she'd rather I kept the books, and doesn't ask for clothes because she wears a uniform to school. 10 - the start of that weird assed awkward time between child and teen. She swims and likes to cook and while she hates going to her school she likes going to mine. That she'll have to go to college sometime hasn't entered her mind yet.

I could've sworn I brought her home from the hospital yesterday. She rolls her eyes and says in the appropriate exasperated tween voice "But mom, I'm 9, not a baby." I have friends whose boys are in high school, one of my nephews is in college another is a freshman, and there is no doubt in my mind that not only does time fly, but they grow up way to fast.