Thanks goodness it's Friday

I can't tell you how delighted I am it's Friday. The last few mornings I have definitely NOT wanted to get out of bed, and I look forward to sleeping late tomorrow. This morning, with Jacob here, I was so off my routine I almost forgot to put the dog out, never did read the newspaper nor check emails, and felt completely thrown together when I got to the office. But I had both of us dressed and fed by the time Jordan came for him about 8:30. And he was in a lovely cheerful mood all morning, though I couldn't convince him that he should let sleeping cats sleep.
I wasn't at work long before it was time to go to the shoulder doctor, who said the injury is so old that sugery probably wouldn't help it, therapy is NOT the thing, and occasional cortisone shots may help. I do think it feels some better, not that I don't know it's there. But it doesn't hurt a lot nor hamper a lot of my movement. I told him I do yoga but just not poses that hurt that shoulder, and he said that was good. I've noticed this week how much better I feel when I do my yoga--noticed because I had skipped it one or two days. Too much going on, but I felt stiff and sore those days and when I do my routine, I feel better the next day. And my feet are, I think, really getting better and stronger.
The grocery store where I've shopped for over twenty years has changed hands. They closed two weeks ago, opened earlier this week, and I made my first visit. It's where I buy toilet paper and soap and staples, while I buy produce and meat at Central Market. The new store is completely rearranged--it was like being in a foreign country! I had to go up and down every aisle looking for what I wanted--some of the rearranging made good sense, but it will take time to adjust. The prices may be a bit higher, but the aisles are wider and it has a new air to it. I didn't look closely but the produce really looks better.
And tonight I brought a major project home from the office but then decided I'd ignored my novel too long. Sent out two queries on the first novel, and did a lot of work on the second. I'm still going back and strengthening, adding suspects and strengthening their motives, etc. I think I'm making it a lot better, but I also realize I need to move ahead and write new text. It's probably my weekend project.

Sunday blues

I'm curiously out of sorts tonight and not sure why. I've had a pleasant weekend, though a bit lonely. But my neighbor and I sat on the porch a while last night--it is such pleasant porch weather in the evenings, I just wish it didn't get dark so early! We managed to avoid politics and talked a lot about dogs. Today I was to babysit Jacob from 10 until 2 but when Jordan arrived with him she wasn't feeling well and finally decided not to go to the luncheon. So we had grilled cheese lunches at 11 a.m., played with Jacob until about 12:30, and then all three of us took long naps. It was fun. Sometimes long weekends do make me out of sorts, but I don't think that's it.
I think I'm unhappy about my writing. I've finished rereading Skeleton in a Dead Space and think I'm okay with it. Tonight it's the subject on the blurb exercise (through Sisters in Crime) so I'm not going to submit it elsewhere until I get those comments, but I'm ready to submit. I figure there are three queries out that might get responses, about four more I don't exepect to hear from, and it's been rejected five times. That's honestly not too depressing a record as these things go. And I'm rethinking my second novel in my mind, uncertain about plot and motivation (I'm learning a lot from this online course in cozy writing). I'm not ready to read through it and change it but thoughts keep popping into my mind. So of course I'm distracting myself by reading someone else's mystery--which may be why I'm out of sorts.
Tomorrow I work from home while an AT&T guy wires my house for HDTV. but I have two major office projects to work on and I won't procrastinate on them like I am on the novel. So tomorrow will be a better day (to almost quote Scarlet). Meantime I guess I'll finish that mystery which, truth be told, I think I already read once.

Cool weather and busy but good days

I would not be so foolish as to predict fall has arrived in mid-August, but we've had a definite temperature change, and it's wonderful. This morning when I ran errands, it was in the mid-70s and cloudy. I would have put the top down on the car but rain looked all too possible. The last few nights I've sat on the porch with a glass of wine, enjoying a cool breeze. And it's predicted to be no higher than the upper 80s for the next two or three days. A welcome break. Oh, and we've had rain--quite a bit yesterday. I left the lid open to my garbage cart to air it out and yesterday morning realized there might be a bit of water in it. A bit? Probably three feet deep and heavy enough that it was hard for me to empty. Besides it created a great flood by the driveway.
Speaking of errands, my trips this morning were an enormous success for reasons few will understand well except me. Ever since the heady days of the kids' visit and my birthday party, my anxiety about space has come back. (I truly believe anxiety comes from excitement as well as negative emotions.) Do NOT tell me to cross an open parking lot alone--it won't happen. I keep telling myself this has come and left before and will again, but I get pretty discouraged. One thing I have discovered is that I do much better if I work up a head of steam. Still, there have been some discouraging days and experiences--thinking I couldn't get from the grocery to my car, having to ask a friend to come help me to her car, etc. (My friends are so helpful that I am really blest--they help quietly, without drawing attention, and without criticizing, teasing, any of the negative things they could do.)
Last Saturday morning I geared myself up to go to Central Market and didn't do anything thing else. I am fully aware that it would be way to easy for me to be a recluse--but that would have its own perils. So today, I went by my office to pick up some work, to the pharmacy to leave a prescription and pick up a few things, to Barnes & Noble to buy one new book (I bought four) and to Central Market. At each place I walked vigorously with a head of steam and no problems. Sure, I've discovered tricks and shortcuts, like parking by a discarded basket at the grocery store and pushing it inside. But, hey, I get things done. So I'm feeling good today.
This was one weekend I didn't mind being fairly empty. I have too much desk work to do, but it turned out not to be empty at all. Last night Charles and I had supper at a Lebanese place down the street from my house; tonight Jordan is going to a baseball game (the Fort Worth Cats) with her office while Christian works, so I'm keeping Jacob overnight. She asked if I'd like her to come to supper on her way and I said of course, I'd make chicken salad because that's what I have a taste for. She doesn't. She's really dieting and wants plain sauteed chicken with lemon and salad. So I'm a short order cook--made myself chicken salad with blue cheese dressing. She tasted it and said, "Why didn't I want chicken salad?" I told her, and she said, "Next time remind me I really like your chicken salad." No need to tell her it's never the same twice.
And tomorrow night, to celebrate the cool weather, the neighbors are coming for cocktails on the porch.
Meantime, I'm working hard on the manuscript on which I'm keying in corrections, but I decided a compulsion to finish it should not keep me from blogging or doing my daily stint on my novel. So I got quite a bit done last night and today, but I've got about a third of the novel to go. I quit to blog and tonight, after Jacob is asleep, I'll work on my own novel. Once again, I know where the next scene is going!
And, of course, I have to sneak in time for a nap. Scoob and Wywy wouldn't underestand if we didn't have our nap time. They're going to be thrown off schedule, and so will I, next week when I have afternoon meetings two days!

A writing spurt

My novel is going well--at least by my own standards. When I sit down at the computer, I seem to know where I'm going, and the words and ideas flow. It's taken me a very long time to get there with this novel, and I'm finally excited about it. I know, for me, the best way to write is to write every day--some of it may turn out to be awful and have to be trashed, some may have to be revised, but I'm moving ahead. So I'm really making a point of getting at least two or three pages down a day. I think part of my problem has been that I'd write a bit and then be away from it for two or three days. I know of writers who religiously spend four to eight hours a day writing. Clearly, their method is different from mine, but I should learn something.
I was at what I would call a stickey wicket--getting the main couple together as lovers without really writing a sex scene. Brandon, my son-in-law, once told me my sex scenes were "disappointingly tasteful," and while, tasteful or not, they fit in the stories of, for instance George and Libby Armstrong or Etta Place and Butch Cassidy who were noted for their passionate love, they don't seem to fit in the mystery series I'm trying to develop. It's not that I have anything against writing a good sex scene (if I could get beyond what Brandon apparently considers my inhibitions), but it just they're not right for these books. Anyway, I think I've done it successfully. Now I have to get them living together and how do they explain that to Kelly's two young daughters? When Fred Erisman read the draft of the first book in this series (now apparently destined to become the second), I mentioned that it was autobiographical in part, and he, ever proper, said he'd wondered but hadn't wanted to ask.
Some authors write long. Ask them for a thousand words, and they'll give you 5,000. I'm the opposite. So one of my worries is whether or not I can keep all the balls in the air long enough to sustain interest until I get to the usual length of mysteries--about 75,000 words. And that's how I feel now. I'm on chapter seven, and it will probably take thirty chapters. I feel I'm rushing through the plot ideas I have, and even though I know in my mind all the things left to happen, can they take up twenty-three chapters? How many victims is my serial killer going to have to have to do that? He may end up rivalling the Green River killer. Fred tells me I rush through things, and he is as always right. I'll have to ask him about this version of this manuscript.
I also have a TCU Press project I'm editing that I now need to key in corrections on. I find that I don't get that done during my mornings at the office, so I brought it home and got done tonight what I had set for my weekend goal. So I'll go get the rest of it tomorrow and see how far I get.
What looked like an open weekend has quickly filled up. Tonight Charles and I went to a local Lebanese restaurant and had a delicious dinner and a good visit. Tomorrow night, I'm fixing a quick dinner for Jordan--I want chicken salad and she wants plain sauteed chicken, and I may just fix both. Then I'll keep Jacob overnight. Sunday is pretty much clear, after she comes to get Jacob, and then in the evening the neighbors are coming for cocktails. Jay told me how cool it is going to be, and I immediatley said, "Porch party!" So I'll fix appetizers. Another nice weekend, and then into a busy week.

Busy Days

Busy, busy, busy is what I've been. Problems have piled on my desk at the office--a legal problem so real that we had to call in the lawyers caused me to spend time researching our book, others like it, etc.; there was a big blooper on one book--not the end of the world though others in my office seemed about to commit hari kari; manuscripts were piling up, though I managed to wade through the pile, rejecting several, sending one to a reader, and with great joy forwarding proposal packets on one to our board.
So after this busy-ness, I am staring at a long weekend. I had hoped to be in Austin, in fact in about 20 minutes I had hoped to be at a book signing where I would see lots of old friends. And then I'd spend the rest of the weekend with Megan and her family. But the idea began to fall apart mid-week, and I could tell it wouldn't work. by then, Jordan had all kinds of plans for Jacob, so I won't get a glimpse of him this weekend--and as I told her, I'm not going to visit her and Christian. Good gracious! I have a yoga lesson, book pages to proof, several mysteries to read, and of course I can always work on my own mystery. The agent who asked for three chapters wrote today to say that it's obvious I'm a talented writer and the manuscript is polished but it isn't for him--do you suppose he says that to all the girls?
I talked with my brother about health issues last night and got a loud and clear message: do not be marched into something you're not sure about. So I've cancelled the gum cleaning until after my consultation with the dentist when I can ask how it's done, etc., as well as press him on why my entire mouth has to be replaced. And I'll go to the doctor about my persistently sore shoulder--but even if it hurts, it doesn't hurt badly enough to have surgery. I learned this lesson when someone prescribed an angiogram to see if I had an aortic aneurysm when a sonogram, much easier, cheaper, and less invasive, would do. But it's a lesson we all have to learn--informed patients have to look out for themselves.
I'll cook dinner for Jeannie and Jim again Sunday--I think I have to change what I'm cooking. Jeannie said we'd ignore Jim's usual diet--he's very careful about fats and salt and eats a lot of veggies, beans, and fish. But now the plan is to fatten him up because he's lost weight, so I've been cooking with cheese, sour cream, etc. I don't know if Jim is gaining weight or not, but I am. This weekend it's meatloaf, a cheesy rice dish, and a spinach casserole (because I want to eat it) that also has cheese in it. I can feel love handles when I exercise, so I know I've got to watch it. And I will next week. No more chocolate! No late night snacks! And less cheese, sour cream, etc. Of course, the pimiento cheese doesn't help. Nor does my fondness for lox and cream cheese.
Have a good weekend, everyone!

Jacob gets the idea

At twenty-two months, Jacob has the slightest inkling about the potty. He's obviously been watching his mama, not his father, because he backs up to it and wants to be lifted up to sit. He sits very seriously for several minutes and then raises his hand for you to lift him down. Of course, he's fully dressed the whole time--and I seriously doubt he's peeing in his diaper while he sits there. But, hey, it's progress!

Jacob and I were supposed to dine alone tonight, but Jordan's plans changed and she stayed for dinner. I defrosted a chicken breast, floured it, sauteed, then sauteed shallot, chive, parsley, and tarragon in butter and olive oil. Some chopped tomato went in, then white wine and chicken broth, and I let the the sauce thicken. Really good. We had broccoli, blue cheese salad, and baby artichokes. The latter were a bit of a disappointment. I've been wantingto try them for a while, but the leaves didn't have much meat on them and the hearts were tiny and hard to get to. I'll settle for an occasional splurge on a regular artichoke. I asked if I could give Jacob a Girl Scout thin mint cookie but Jordan pleaded exhaustion--she didn't want to stay up with a baby swinging from the ceiling at 10:30.

What a week! Starting with a stomach virus was probaby a bad sign. Then there was the grant proposal, some misunderstandings with the editors of the proposed series (thankfully, those were easily and pleasantly resolved and we ended up on the same page), then catalog copy came and had to be proofed instantly and prices finalized for the fall books--once you put it in a catalog, you can't change the price because . . . well, it just causes all kinds of you know what.

And then the dissatisfied author I thought I'd mollified came back to haunt me. He had written a nasty letter to the provost, saying that I ran off everyone--authors, editors, booksellers, even the garbage man I suppose--because I was so quick to offend. He contended that I was running the press like a fief (isn't the word fiefdom?) and ruining it and that many local historians were working on texts they wouldn't bring to TCU Press because of me. Since we publish a lot of local history, that came as great news, and in my anger I wanted to call and demand the names of those writers. I know he's misguided, distorting things, taking out his anger in an unprofessional way--but it's still worrisome. Knowing about the letter before I read it, I woke at 4 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep. I refuse to let someone like that rob me of my sleep, my peace of mind, or my sense of myself as a professional!

Often I dread slow weekends, but I'm looking forward to this one. I'm finishing that coffee house novel that I like, and then I have two Robert Parker novels. One of our fall authors is Parker's publicist and offered today to send me anything I wanted to read--wow! Tomorrow I'll shop, Sunday I probably go to church, and that evening Sue is coming for a glass of wine and I promised appetizers. Hmmm, deviled eggs with smoked salmon sounds like a place to start. Usually when I'm home alone on Saturday I cook something wonderful, but I have so much in the icebox--half a hamburger from today's lunch at a bistro, pieces of my chicken and Jordan's from tonight, my ever-present smoked salmon. I'll have to think of something to make me feel creative.

Or maybe I'll get to work on the Scots in Texas again.