Continuing Education

When started my first story (I cringe a little at the pretentiousness of saying 'book,' 'novel,' or even 'manuscript' when right now it's more like the equivalent of 'doodle') sometime during the year of 2008, I didn't have a clue what I was doing.  My fiction writing knowledge looked like this:

That was it for a really long time.  In fact, that was it until the past month or so, when I started paying attention to blogs and articles by real writers giving advice to posers like me.  There is a lot to learn, but for once, my brain is working.  I haven't felt like this since I was in college.  At long last, after reading dozens upon dozens of articles, blogs, and books and writing for hundreds of hours , my knowledge looks like this:

I have come a long way; I still have far to go.

Chaela Speaks

Woo hoo!  Look at me, two blogs in less than a week!

Anyway.

For those of you who don't have the opportunity to be around Chaela on a regular basis, let me just say, she is verbose.  The child never stops talking, not from the time she wakes up in the morning to the time we force her into her bed at night.

Lately, Chaela has picked up some new words.  Some she's heard from us, some from TV, and others, I assume, from being out and about in the world.  When I was growing up, there were two kinds of words: "bad words," and "all the other words."  Now that Chaela is meandering through the labyrinth of language, however, I find myself making up categories.

It all started with "Stupid is a mean word."  Because it is, and Chaela will tell you so, because it's the only context in which she can use the word 'stupid' without getting in trouble.  I didn't want to tell her it's a bad word, because it's not.  'Stupid' can be applied to situations without a problem.  It's when it's applied to people that we don't use it, but for now, Chaela is too young to understand the difference.

She's sworn before ("That's my medicine, it goes on my a**!") but she was too young for explanations.  A few weeks ago, however, we were presented with a parental teaching moment.  Will and I were watching a comedian one night after she was supposed to be in bed, except she wasn't.  The comedian swore, and Chaela said, with a question in her voice said, "Sh-?" only to be cut off by Will's hand clapping over her mouth (and me leaving the room because I was laughing so hard).  That's when she learned about 'bad' words, which are words we never say.

The next category is "serious" words.  These are words we never use unless we mean them.  Mostly it was brought on by Chaela screaming "HELP, HELP!" every time we go out in public, but it's also been applied to the word die/dead, which she's begun using in an unintentionally morbid fashion ("I'll just go be DEAD in my room, MOM.")

Lastly, we come to "words only grown-ups can say," or "words Mommy uses frequently and doesn't think she can stop saying."  In this category: the word 'crap.'  I know, it's a gross word, and I really should drop it from my vocabulary, but seriously, I NEVER swear.  I feel like I should have something to say when I'm mad!

In our house we now have mean words, bad words, serious words, and grown-up words.  I don't know if it's her personality, my paranoia, or a combination of both, but I am a much less laid-back mother than I thought I would be.

Of Blog Neglect and Novel Writing.

I know I've been neglecting my blog for a long time now, but it's mostly because I don't feel like I have anything to blog about.  I hang out with my girls all day, my husband at night, and for the past little bit, work on my story, which I know isn't exciting to pretty much anyone but me.  However, it's what I'm doing, and I know there are about three people out there who care, so here's an update.


I've been doing a read-through.  Well, I was trying to.  It works in fits and starts.  When I got to the second half, I had to stop and edit a bunch of it because it didn't match the beginning or the end and I was too bothered to carry on.  I fixed the content, but what really needs work is the pacing.  It's basically this: three days where you see everything, skip two weeks in a lengthy summary, EXAMINE EVERY SINGLE DETAIL of the next few days, during which time the storylines separate and more time seems to pass for one character than all the others, exciting climax.


Storytelling is hard.  For reals.  However, a good thing to come of this is that the closer I get to the end, the better (IMO) the writing gets.


For a long time I've felt like, "Why bother doing this?  It's not very good, it will never see the light of day."  While that may still be true, it's not as bad as I thought it was, and I will definitely finish it.  Because you know why?  Writing is FUN.  You know that thrilled feeling you get after doing something AWESOME, like riding a wave runner or a roller coaster, or arriving in that place that means more to than anywhere else in the world (MOheckyes!), or after a really deep, satisfying conversation with your best friends?  That is how I felt last night after working on my book.  I <3 making crap up!  I wish to do it for a living.


Anyway, this is all I have to blog about, and I must needs feed mine chilluns.  BUT I think since I've spent all this blogspace talking about my book, I want to post a sample for ya'll.  Hold on.  Ok, kids are fed.  I will now try to find something excerpty.  Warning: I am a nerd, and this is a fantasy.


Oh man, now I'm nervous.  Don't judge me.  Do, however, shoot my a sympathetic, private email if it sucks.  Here we go:


A grinding, shrieking roar wrenched Kai out of sleep.  She jumped, flailed for half a second in open air, then grunted as she hit the ground.  Spitting earth from her mouth, she grimaced.  A dirt floor?  Where was she?

The blood-freezing scream rent the night, and instinctively she pressed her face into the soil, digging her fingers into the hard-packed earth. Her heart pulsed faster than a strobe light.  

The most primitive, visceral part of her brain reared up.  You are prey, it squealed in a piercing whine.

Outside, there were shouts, a series of barked commands, then silence.  The haze of confusion lifted, and through her fear, she remembered; the girl with the broken leg, the camp, the strange meeting…

That didn’t explain that ear-splitting, demonic noise.  She turned her face to the side and gasped a breath, scrabbling to reassert higher brain function.

She pushed her shaky way onto hands and knees and crawled to the shuttered window.  She pressed her forehead to the cool stone, inhaled, and raised her eye to the small opening between the slats.

The campsite was abandoned.  Nothing remained of the fire but a few embers casting a weak, red glow on the rocks ringed around them.  Weird, she swore she’d heard the others.  

The roar shattered the night again, and she slammed herself backwards, accidentally shoving open the shutters in her haste to get away from them.  Terror cracked through her like lighting, every hair on her body stood on end. 

She was about to die.  

Another of the horrible cries echoed off the mountain and Kai clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. 

Suddenly, in the patch of sky framed in the open window, a column of white fire blossomed, searing itself into her retinas.  The afterimage smoldered behind her eyelids, a negative of two vast, impossible shapes.

She dug the heels of her hands hard into her eyes.  When the glare faded, she crept to the window and peered out once again.  

She had to look. 

The white-hot fire blazed and died like the flashbulb of a camera.  To her exhilaration and horror, they appeared.

Dragons, one red, one black, battled in the coal-dark sky.

Resolution 2011 Mid-year Update

It's been a while since I blogged about my three New Year's resolutions.  Yes, I still remember them.  Here is an update (I don't remember which order they were in):

1. Lose an average of 1 pound a week for a total of 52 pounds:

I'm not sure how this one is going, because we don't currently own a scale.  Let's just say I'm not as slender as I should be by now.  However, I lost some weight and will keep this as a goal.  Even if I don't get to 52 pounds, anything is better than nothing!


2. Move out of my parents' basement.

Check.  For those of you who didn't notice, we moved.  To Utah.


3. Submit something, anything, for publication.

This is another goal not achieved YET, but I think this one is coming along.  A summary: throughout the month of January I completed a first draft of a novel with approximately 75,000 words.  My initial goal was to send the manuscript to agents or publishers by my birthday (April 6th, I like chocolate).  Fail.  First of all, I got lazy, second, I got thrown off by the move.  Will was gone for a month, I had to pack everything, excuse, excuse, blah, blah, blah.
Anyway, we're settled here now and I'm out of excuses.  I haven't written much recently, but I didn't stop thinking about my story.  Trust me, it's better now.
I've also discovered a gem of a thing called AutoCrit, an online editing tool that tells you when your writing sucks.  (Statistical analysis, yay! .)  Not that this will help with any major problems, but now the final product will be super shiny.  I'm very excited.


How are you all doing on your resolutions?

You might be a Mormon...

Since being back in Utah, I've been bombarded with the... interesting facets of LDS culture.  To celebrate that, I thought I'd start a "You might be a redneck" inspired list.  Feel free to add your own in the comments.  My non-LDS friends, prepare to be anthropologically enlightened.

*

If the first question you hear after you get engaged is, "So when are you going to start having kids?" you might be a Mormon.

If the second question you hear after getting married (after "So when are you having kids?") is, "So, when are you starting your blog?" you might be a Mormon.

If you have a brick with the word "Nauvoo" imprinted on it displayed on your mantle or a table in your foyer,
you might be a Mormon.

If you are 21 and single, but all your old roommates are married and you refer to yourself as a spinster, you might be a Mormon.

If you have ever been told to dance a "Book of Mormon length" away from a member of the opposite sex, you might be a Mormon.

If you exhibit bizarre behavior, such as honking, waving, offering lemonade, or screaming, "HEY ELDER!" when you see random young men in suits and black tags wandering around your town, you might be a Mormon.

If you have an entire shelf of books written by Gerald Lund, you might be a Mormon.

If your best and/or only friend who does NOT attend your church is Catholic, you might be a Mormon.

If you have been on vacation to obscure rural cities in Illinois, Ohio, and New York, and Missiouri,

you might be a Mormon.

If you name your child something that you came up with by combining the names of other people you are related to, you might be a Mormon.

If you have multiple children by the age of 24 and you did it on purpose, you might be a Mormon.

If you know several people with names like Nephi, Lehi, Mosiah, Ammon, Moroni, or Mahonri Moriancumer, you might be a Mormon..

If your blog features tutorials for home-cooked meals, unbearably cute crafts, sewing, canning, gardening, child-rearing, and links to your Etsy shop and the official church website, you might be a Mormon.

If you have a Pyrex dish etched with your last name and a unique design so you don't lose it at potlucks or when taking dinner to sick people, you might be a Mormon.

If you have a younger sibling the same age as your oldest child, you might be a Mormon.

If the first half of your sports nickname is Stormin,' you might be a Mormon.

If people look at you blankly when you tell them the full and correct name of your church, you might be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

If your family and friends often try and involve you in summer sales and/or pyramid schemes, you might be a Mormon.

If you have enough food in your basement to feed 10 people for a year, you might be a Mormon.

If you live east of the Mississippi and decide to go to college in Utah or Idaho, you might be a Mormon.

If your husband is a white guy who speaks a language from Asia, Africa, South America, or a Pacific island, you might be a Mormon.

If you were born after 1990, but the dances you go to are still playing "Macarena" and "Cha Cha Slide," you might be a Mormon.

*

Well, that's all for now.  Like I said, add your own in the comments!  If you're not Mormon, add one from whatever culture you feel you belong to the most.  Its always good to be able to laugh at our quirks.

Little Miss Joss

Kids are The Great Mystery.  From the moment I found out I was pregnant with each of them, I pondered What They Would Do, but more importantly: Who Would They Be?

Babies often taunt their parents with tantalizing hints about their adult selves (or at least, that's what I'm assuming, but my oldest is only three... and you know what assuming does... anyway...).  I've known for a long time, for example, that Chaela is too bright for her own good, or my sanity.

But now Joci is old enough that the fog of babyhood surrounding her personality is dissipating, as well.  Here are a few things she has revealed to me:

1. Joci loves shoes.  There is only one pair that fits her, but she brings it to me every morning, shoving them towards my face while lifting her chubby foot in the air.  "Bf! Bf!" she insists, and how can I resist that?  It's very persuasive.

2. Joci loves clothes and accessorizing.  Right now, the girls don't have a dresser, so all of their clothes are folded and neatly stacked on their closet floor.  Every morning when it's time to get dressed, Joci makes a beeline for the bedroom and picks out her own clothes.  I am not exaggerating.  It all started with a pair of socks... now it's her entire daily wardrobe.  The kid can't walk, but she can coordinate outfits like a boss.

3. Joci loves chocolate.  In fact, Joci has a sensing device in her body similar to bat echolocation.  But instead of finding bugs, Joci finds chocolate, ice cream, and candy.  Woe betide anyone who thinks they don't have to share.  Unless you want to have your eardrums burst with her ultra-sonic banshee power screams, you give that child what she wants or put it away until she is in bed.

4. Joci won't take no for an answer for longer than 3 seconds (ignore Chaela picking her nose, we're working on it).  In this picture you see depicted the first Epic Battle between my second daughter and I.

Me: Joci, get away from the T.V.
Joci sits down.  Joci stands up.
Me: Joci, sit!
Joci ignores me.  I get up and pull her down by her pants.  She lands on her diapered butt.
Joci: Bf!
I sit down.  Joci stands up.
Me: Jocelyn!
Joci looks back and me and smiles.
Joci: Hi!!
Me: JOCELYN EVE!
Joci sits down.  Joci stands up.
Etc.

What does this mean for the Joci of the future?  Super model?  Probably not.  Sorry, honey, thanks to mommy, you probably won't break 5'5.  Fashion editor, though, or designer?  Could be.  Stubborn chocoholic on the formidable level of her Aunt Lindsay?  Almost definitely.

Joci, I am so excited to see the woman you will turn out to be.

Bonus pictures!

Perhaps where Joci gets her diva inspiration?

One of the most rewarding parts of being a mom is that my girls are friends.
Note the socks on Joci, she picked them out herself.

What if you could live to be 1,000?

Ok, check out this article.  The gist of it is that there's a scientist claiming that within 25 years, we might have the capacity to virtually do away for the aging process, perhaps extending the human lifespan to 1,000 years or more.

What do you think about this?  Would you want to live forever?  What about population control?  Getting a job if no one has to retire until they're 900?  Is it natural?  What other issues would arise from this?

I know you're all thoughtful, intelligent people, so I'd love to hear what you think!  Discuss.

Learning "L"

Anyone who has heard Chaela speak knows that she's pretty good.  She can say /s/ and /r/ and most /th/'s without a problem, but she's had issues with /l/.  Lately, however, I've noticed that she is consciously working on it.  It all started while she was watching "Pooh's Heffalump Movie" and started running around yelling "Yumpy, Yumpy!  La!  Lumpy! Yumpy!  La!  Lumpy!  LUMPY!" (fun times for my upstairs neighbors).

Anyway, she's been doing well, especially with word-initial /l/ (L's at the beginning of the word... yay linguistics jargon!  Use that degree!).  Recently she's even started picking up on the /l/ within words... except for her own name.  This was a conversation we had this evening:

[Conversation starts with Chaela exaggerating the L in a word I can't remember.]
Me: Wow!  You're getting really good at saying your L's!
Chaela: YEAH!
Me: So can you say Chaela?
Chaela: YEAH!  CHAYA!
Me: Ha ha, not quite.  Chay-LUH.  Llllll.  Luh!
Chaela: CHAYA!  I did it!
Me: Yeah, good job honey.  How about this, say Chay...
Chaela: Chay.
Me: Luh.
Chaela: Luh.
Me: Chay... luh.
Chaela: CHAYA!  I DID IT!  Chaya!  Chaya Kafrin HAIR!
Me: *sigh*
[five minutes later, to herself]
Chaela: Ha ha, Chay-LUH.  That's silly.
Me: *facepalm*

A blog to keep... and show to boys in 13 years.

Alright, a funny story for you all.

Ever since Joci has been drinking from bottles (in December) Chaela has taken to imitating her when we give her something to drink.  She does it every single time.  Observe:

This is the position I'm talking about, only with Chaela and a sippy cup.

 No problem, right?  Right.  Because sippy cups have lids.

Regular cups, however, do not.

So, Chaela and I were hanging out because Will is working tonight and Joci was already in bed.  She asked for a cup of water, so I got her one.  Not a sippy cup, like I usually do, just a normal one.  Chaela's really good with them; she usually has them with meals at the table.  This time she was sitting on the couch.

Now, I don't know if she was extra tired because it was a little past her bedtime, or maybe it was her first honest-to-goodness blonde moment.  I will never know.  What I do know is that within ten seconds of me sitting down at the computer, Chaela screamed.  I jumped up, wondering how on earth she managed to hurt herself that badly laying flat on the couch (never doubting, however, that she could find a way).  She threw herself into a sitting position and gasped, "MOMMY!  I have water ALL OVER ME!"

By this time I was next to her.  Yes, indeed, she was soaked.  I attempted to muffle my laughter as the truth dawned.

"Chaela... sweetheart... um, [snort] did you just try and [giggle] drink that open cup of water laying down?"  I couldn't help it.  I barely made it through the question.  My intelligent, precocious three-and-a-half-year-old had just dumped a cup of water on her face.  Now I had tears streaming out of my eyes.

"Yes," Chaela replied, with a tone and expression I can only call prim.

I lost it.  Ok, it's probably just me, or maybe you had to be here, to hear her scream of shock and horror when it happened.  Or it could be that I'm really, really tired.  Either way, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.  Even now, writing this, I can't get over how awesomely hysterical it was.

Thank you Chaela, you made mommy's night.

Joci!

Joci turned one on April 20th this year, making her close to 13 and 1/2 months now.  She's not walking, but she does pull up and cruise, so I'm still holding out hope it will happen eventually.  I've decided one of the things I'm going to do is work on it with her, because part of me wonders if she doesn't walk because I carry her everywhere.  I'm not too worried about it, though the pediatrician did say they might want to look into it if she isn't walking by 15 months, so my goal is to have her on her feet by then.  We'll see.

What Joci does do is communicate.  Her favorite way to do this is an obnoxious scream that sounds like 500 nails on a chalkboard.  However, she also says a few words:

Hi!
Mama
Dad
Uh-oh
Ki (kitty)

She signs for:
All done
I want that (it's the milk sign, which we taught her for bottle, and she decided meant "I want")

She also nods her head yes and no, but I'm not sure if she's quite got the point of it yet.

She might be saying:
Sha! (Chaela)
Buh (Blankie)
Ba (drink, the ba sound coming from "bottle")
Yaya (Love you)

She'll repeat a word if you ask her (not perfectly of course), which I think is pretty cool.

So that's our Joci.  She's such a fun girl!  I a little high maintenance, maybe, but when she smiles, she can light up a whole room.